


Vulnerable Facade

by caballero78



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: "Bad Boy" Edward, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bottom Louis, College AU, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, He can be a bit of a brat, Heavy Angst, Highschool AU, Innocent Louis, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Nerd Harry, Oblivious Louis, Obsession, Older Harry, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry, Protective Edward, Protective Harry, Rich Harry, Rich Louis, Sassy Louis, Shy Harry, Sibling Rivalry, The Styles Twins, Top Edward, Top Harry, Violence, Younger Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 148,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caballero78/pseuds/caballero78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bad choice of words or slip of the tongue?”</p><p>“Bad choice of words, honestly. What I meant was, all this time you’ve never suspected him of anything even close to violence- associating Harry with anger would probably be like associating a kitten with mass murder right?”</p><p>Louis pushed his tub of ice cream forward, appetite firmly forgotten shortly after the stalker comment and let out a long sigh through his nose. He ran a hand through his hair making the soft tufts stick up and remain tousled as he looked at the elderly couple to their side.</p><p>“Edward what are you trying to tell me?”</p><p>On the inside, Edward beamed. On the outside, he looked a picture of regret and conflict.</p><p>“I’m trying to protect you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is probably something that's been done 984 times already, I know there's tonnes of prompts out there for this but I have a soft spot for the Styles Twins and dark twists and cute Louis and so I couldn't put it off any longer. I tagged Marcel because the [Harry](http://66.media.tumblr.com/b5d7e5658a0c55fb5713de38a9bc8a72/tumblr_inline_nyg8yzGwzi1qfp6p9_500.gif) in this is sort of Marcel -esque **at the beginning.** [Edward](https://68.media.tumblr.com/06ec8febf521d19f0748c92fadc03026/tumblr_on6ve5tlVW1txbxoio1_500.gif) though.
> 
> (Credit to the gif owners, nothing is mine).

“I was just passing.”

“You’re always just passing, Harry,” Louis removed the memory stick from the station, placing the lid on with a small click, “where could you have been going to, to be _just passing_?”

“Oh you know, here and there,” His dimples popped on a small toothy smile, “I’m quite mysterious like that.”

Harry shifted his feet, readjusting his fingers around the items he were holding. Louis raised his eyebrows slowly, flicking his eyes to the action and duly noting how unusually large said hands were, given he were holding a small but still-regular-sized-textbook, a slim A4 notebook _and_ some kind of beaten up brown leather journal in that one hand alone. 

“You’re the most obvious open booked person I know, something I’ve read several times and I’m bored,” Louis swivelled back round in his chair, taking a hold of the computer mouse, “couldn’t be more vanilla if you tried.”

Harry felt a pang of something in his chest. Something that pulled at the delicate part of him that was far too easy to rile. He shut it down immediately.

“Well, vanilla is a very underrated flavour.” Harry’s giggle was contrived, willing himself to come through as the better side of skittish. He forced his feet forward a little, coming up just a bit closer to Louis. Never too close though, didn’t dare get too close. But close enough that he could reach out and touch him if he wanted. To trace the remarkable contour of his cheekbones, now even more prominent with the glow from the monitor.

Louis sighed at his screen, already bored with the conversation, “Did you really just say that?”

Harry came back to the moment, as jarring and awkward as it was. As it always is.

“Y-yeah,” He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to lose this moment albeit one of the worst one’s they’ve shared so far. They were alone bar three other people in this tiny computer suite and Harry had yet to feel something so intimate. 

But then Louis was standing and all of that came crashing down with his rise.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I have a tutor in nine minutes,” He lifted his backpack onto his shoulder and pushed the chair back under the desk neatly, “and as I like to be ten minutes early to everything, I’m already late.”

“But I, I thought you needed help with your history?”

“No, wrong, _you_ offered to help me with it, you presumed,” Louis tone was condescending, Harry would start to worry if it were ever anything but, “I never said I needed anything.”

“Okay, alright, well where is your tutoring- I’ll walk with you?”

Louis had already passed Harry and was on his way to the exit when he reached for the handle and pulled, looking back at Harry for a short moment, his face somewhere between ridicule and disgust. 

“I’m good.”

 

*

 

It was June, it was summer, it was hot and it was Louis’ birthday month.

And of course, he was throwing a pool party. Has done for the past four years and if he stopped now the entire social construct would be thrown off course and the universe would become entirely unbalanced. 

Louis wasn’t humble when it came to his fortune. His inherited fortune, that allowed him to throw grand, prestigious parties that became notorious amongst his fellow students, throughout the grades. All parties wish they could be Louis’ party.

He was fortunate enough to live in a nine bedroomed, six bathroomed Georgian manor house thanks to his Parent’s success in their strive for greatness in their separate professions. His Father was a self made millionaire, having been the proud entrepreneur that originally designed a cable tidy and now worked with the big dogs at Samsung. His Mother a city planner whose most recent endeavour had been on the latest addition to the London Underground and although she brought in less money than her husband, she was still at the top of her game.

Naturally, Louis was a born artist and had taken a particular interest in design and architecture himself, but just never enough to fully apply himself. He’d put his creative streak down his parent’s influence and decided to focus on performing arts instead of visionary. And they absolutely adored it. 

Everywhere they went Louis was praised for his performance in one thing or another. Whether it was his solo piano rendition of Rimsky-Korsakov or his leading role as Solor in La Bayadere, he was fawned over, adored by many and envied by more. 

His parents are also to thank for that. If ‘thank’ is the suitable implication. Pushy and strict in their upbringing was their way of ensuring Louis too, became the best of the best. Never settle for less. To others it may look suffocating, bordering abuse at some points but Louis had never known anything else. Unfamiliar with anything less than perfection, especially when it comes to his craft. 

Anybody who didn’t know him would still be able to see this teaching that had been ingrained so forcibly in his head, this strain for perfection from his body. Albeit a modest 5ft 9 his muscles had been constructed over ten years of rigorous ballet practise; the harsh demands of such an art leaving Louis sore at the best of times but toned to perfection. Every muscle has been specifically formed to serve, each one having it’s own purpose. 

His physique, talent and frightfully pretty genes didn’t only catch the eye of professionals however. He was always on the hit list for horny alpha males that fancied their chances, especially in the past year. Girls too, but for obvious reasons they always soon realised it was fruitless and had to retire to admiring from a distance. Something most boys couldn’t quite get the hang of.

Turning eighteen in eight days meant those same boys will probably be on the prowl at his party too. Like dogs on heat knowing that the most eligible virgin on campus is now of adult age. 

It wasn’t that Louis didn’t like the attention, because, of course he did. It wasn’t a woe to have attractive eighteen _plus_ year olds flirting with him, but there came a point when it got tiresome and he really just wanted them to leave him alone. Maybe if he wasn’t such a tease about it all. Maybe if he didn’t know exactly what he did to them and used his tight but _curvy in all the right places_ body and unearthly lustrous eyes to tantalise their fantasies further then they’d get the hint sooner.

He’d just finished using his prettiness on a Twelfth year- nineteen year old rugby player Ben outside his locker, when his friend of too many years came up behind him clearing his throat.

“Uh, Louis?”

Louis abandoned his lip biting and pulled his head back up from it’s flirtatious tilt, turning around with a small pout to the brunette, eyebrows shooting up in a lazy fashion when he saw who had interrupted his trial.

“Liam, hi, hold on one sec,” He returned to Ben, broad shouldered six foot power house Ben and said he’ll see him on Saturday and how he just simply couldn’t wait.

Ben left with hearts in his eyes and a longing in his groin.

“Sorry, yeah what's up?” Louis clutched his folder a little tighter to his chest with one arm, swivelling around on his heels when Ben was out of ear shot, huffing out a breath at the effort of forced interest.

He caught Liam’s scrutinising look.

“What?”

“How do you do it?” Liam laughed then, breathy and kind but still genuinely serious.

“Do what?” Louis was oblivious.

“ _That_ ,” Liam motioned loosely to the direction in which Ben had left, “use people to get what you need out of them?”

“I do nothing of the sort and I’m offended you think so.” Louis smiled sweetly at the girl who waved at him in passing, before rolling his eyes when he rounded the corner.

“Fuck off Tomlinson.”

“Okay you’re right. Maybe I should just be straight with him, tell him I’m not interested and stop leading him on…” Louis guided them into the next corridor, which to Liam’s agony led straight to the Library, “I suppose the twenty bottles of Magnum Cristal that he promised to bring on Friday really wouldn’t be that sorely missed.”

Liam placed a hand on the oak door, pausing when the name fell on his ears.

“Wait, what?”

Louis raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips, before he swung the other door open and sauntered into the silent room, barely holding it for an extra second for Liam to catch.

“Louis, did you say Magnum?”

“I did.” He nodded, then made a phoney apologetic face towards the lady librarian who was looking at them disapprovingly.

Liam sped up to meet Louis’ pace, spluttering at his ear with a hand in the crook of his elbow to slow him down.

“Louis you’re bloody fantastic.”

“So about that moral compass you have…” Louis peered at his clearly excited friend with a small smile.

Liam waved his hand, suddenly gaining interest in something in the far corner just behind the Biological Science section, “It’s temporarily lost it’s baring.”

Louis hummed, just about to go to the History section himself when Liam muttered something about being on a roll and being charitable and Louis really didn’t catch much of it but was far too intrigued to let him wander off by himself so he faltered, before following.

“Liam please I need to be quick, I just need to find this one book-”

“Hi Anya, hello,” He smiled that sweet puppy dog smile with his tongue between his teeth that seemed to get everyone around him melting - never Louis mind - at the small blonde girl who had her nose in a geometry textbook, “pool party next Friday?”

Louis gawked. He may well be his second in command but this wasn’t the time or the place and Anya was the one who got caught behind the football stands blowing off a player of the away team last Autumn and that’s really not someone he has the time of day for. Besides she insists on wearing the same YSL jacket every other day and it was two seasons ago. Louis shivers at the thought. 

Liam finished assuring her it was fine that she invited whoever and bid goodbye before turning back to Louis quickly,

“Pumpkin, you already have over a hundred guests, whats another few?”

Louis didn’t say goodbye, just scrambled up to his annoying friend after _another_ sigh. But before he could retort, Liam made it clear who he was headed for next. And turns out it wasn’t Anya who had caught his eye in the first place. 

“No…” Louis said to no one but himself.

Well, at least he meant to but Liam caught it and being within ear shot of his target he did nothing but give Louis a quick wink over his shoulder.

“Styles!” Liam said it quietly enough so it was library friendly but still got the boy behind the name jumping at the sudden noise.

Harry was ripped out of his neurological universe, having been submersed in the functions of the frontal lobe and speech impairments that he nearly dropped the pencil he was holding.

“Yes?” He swallowed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“You fancy breaking the mould fellow?”

Harry smiled politely, but frowned nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry, I'm not follow-,” He giggled a little, completely lost as to what he was being told.

Liam repeated what he'd been going round the school saying for the past few hours, "-Pool party, next Friday." 

The shriek of chair legs scraping along the polished wood floor made everyone flinch as Harry stood up like someone had struck his back side with a red hot poker.

“ _Louis hi_ ,” He nearly fell over from the exertion, straightening out the front of his shirt, “are you, um, is this your party?”

Sparkling green eyes stared at him like he was anchoring for a reply; ready and waiting for any response he’d give. He licked his lips a couple of times making their healthy pink hue wet and vibrant, fingertips splayed over the desk he was leaning forward a little awkwardly on, a lanky looming presence over the people next to him on the table and now Liam. Liam, who had jumped a little from his sudden rise but was now eyeing him head to toe, not quite sure when Harry got so tall.

Louis hadn’t moved since his outburst, clutching his folders to his chest. He side eyed Liam.

“Of course.” He was surprised if not a bit irritated by the question, adjusting the strap of his backpack with a small frown aimed anywhere but Harry.

Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, bobbing his head instantly, “Okay, great, great…” He continued nodding a couple more times before he realised he’d been staring a little too long at the boy and ducked his head. 

Liam was still looking at Harry suspiciously.

“Harry are you wearing heels?”

Thankful for the change of subject, if not a little confused by it, Harry whipped his head to the side, the tiniest blush tinting his cheeks.

“Pardon me?”

Liam just frowned at his choice of footwear. Not because he didn’t particularly like them because he did, they were just maybe a little too stylish to belong to someone like Harry super-nerd Styles. 

“Your boots…” He was definitely Liam’s height usually. Definitely.

“Oh yes, _yes_ they’re quite swish.” Harry angled his foot out from behind the table, tilted it to show off the soft chocolate brown suede, “The heel’s only small though, I thought they were a little edgier alternative to the usual flat-”

“-Bit fancy for my liking.” Louis scrunched his nose, mouth turned down. 

Harry stopped immediately, visibly hurt by the acutely offensive comment and looked down at his pencil for something to busy his hands with.

“I- I mean, I suppose they are a little um, fashion forward for me.” Harry shrugged, flitting his eyes up briefly to see a disapproving Louis peering at his feet. 

“Right anyway,” Liam started, not caring enough at all to continue this conversation and quite frankly - even though he’d be damned to admit it - wanting to get away from Harry altogether, thoroughly not enjoying not being the tallest one in the group, “I best be going, I’ll forward you the address later so.” 

As if Harry didn’t already know it. As if Harry needed anyone to tell him anything he didn’t already know about the boy.

“Okay,” Harry’s swallow was visible, head nod a little too distracted as he pulled at his collar a little, feeling a little more flushed than a second ago, “yeah, thank you.”

“Invite all your friends if you like, the more the merrier.”

“ _Liam_.” Louis glared at him, he wasn’t too happy about how he’d suddenly taken matters of the very specific and bespoke guest list into his own hands and had started inviting people left right and centre. Louis had a reputation to uphold and he wasn’t prepared to just let any old folk waltz into his home. 

“You don’t properly know half the people you’ve invited anyway and you can be sure they’re going to have their plus ones, especially Lawrence from Caistor way,” Liam looked away for a second, chuckling to himself at the memory, “those chaps are wild.”

Louis rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. He was already severely off schedule for his piano rehearsal thanks to Liam’s chivvying and wasn’t going to waste another second.

“Fine, _fine_ ,” Louis hitched his backpack up again and swiped his fingers along his fringe,“ just don’t bring any drib drab.”

And after a pointed look at Harry, he sauntered off, Liam immediately in tow after saying he’ll see them there with a curt nod and short wave.

Only then did Harry sit back down.

 

*

 

“Come on muffin we’re going to be late!” 

Louis was positively _ruffled_. Who was this obnoxious imbecile shouting at the top of his offensively gritty voice across the forecourt of the school grounds?

“So I hear the Deelsby Brothers are making it their priority to bring that old Havana Rum on Friday.” Percy came striding up beside him just then, snatching him right out of his previous immersion.

“Oh really?” Louis cocked his head to the side, before pulling the passenger door to his Porsche open, “Hi, by the way.”

Percy stretched his arms above his head, pale blue button up that was perfectly moulding to his unfairly athletic frame riding up a little, revealing a pane of the smooth pale skin of his naval. 

“Yep, this might turn out to be a two day thing you know? Especially if it’s anything like last time.”

“ _Last time_ , is something I thought I’d made clear we’d never acknowledge even happened ever again?”

“Yeah but-”

“-no Percy. It’s going to run as planned without any interruptions-”

“ _Fucking move it_!”

The boy from earlier was at it again. 

Louis slammed his door shut, head turned towards the direction it was coming from to try and spot the rude lit-

“Louis! P!” Liam was there. Somewhere to Louis’ right, but Louis was far too engaged with his need to locate the idiot who was emitting such profanities.

“What are we looking at?” Liam came between the duo, throwing an arm around their shoulders. 

“Not sure exactly…” Percy was squinting now. 

“Some sort of outsider.” Louis stuck his nose in the air, on his tiptoes, trying desperately to get a look at who or _what_ was making for such an intolerable scene.

“Louis you can’t call people that.”

“Well,” He plonked his heels back down, sighing quietly through his nose when he had no such luck, “obviously someone who has such a foul mouth and the audacity to holler out like that belongs nowhere near this institute. Campbell will be turning in his grave.”

Campbell was the founder of the school and Liam rolled his eyes at the comment. He was all too familiar with the fact that Louis’ parents were maybe a bit on the bad side of obsessed when it came to the institutions’s history. He’d thought that maybe were the reason why his Dad was always pushing him through the years to become president of the student council.

“Actually you know what, I’ll see you both at Lucy’s, I’m going to see what this rancid human being thinks he’s doing -text me.” And with that, Louis beeped the door to his car and started his retreat to the obnoxious sound, leaving his two friends watching him saunter off, a ball of simmering rage ready to unfold.

“Prayer circle for the guy who doesn’t know what’s about to hit him?” Liam offered, mouth turned down in a humours smirk.

Percy hummed in agreement, shaking his head. 

“Poor guy. Doesn’t stand a chance.”

Louis had weaved his way through the slowly thickening crowds of students, their presence alone adding to his irritation, when he came to a jittery stop at the edge of the path. He realised the groups of people were too great to squeeze through and the only way of getting across to the other side is either walk back around the _entire_ garden and up the steps, past the flower beds and down the other set of steps just to get to the stretch of patio the stranger was occupying. 

Or, he had to walk across the grass. Something that, in his six years at this wonderful school, he had never dreamed of doing. 

Louis’ head snapped up, mouth screwed into a tight line at the hollering whistle this _inexplicable_ human had just sounded and cursed something short and quiet under his own breath.

He hot footed it across the grass.

“Excuse me? Hey you. _Excuse me_ ,” Louis slowed his jog until he was directly behind him within touching distance, no intention to actually do anything of the sort however as Louis would rather stick the wrong end of a toothbrush down his throat, “Sir would you mind telling me what you think you’re doing?”

Tall, broad shouldered, unruly head of dark hair and barely an inch of skin on either of his arms left untouched by ink. No. There was absolutely no way this boy was anywhere near the grade of person this school attracted. Or accepted, for that matter.

Then he turned around. 

And Louis all but recoiled when he saw his face.

“Sir?” His voice was just as scratched as the other, if not more, “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone call me sir before.”

Louis felt screwed to the spot. Usually very aware of his entire presenting, image being everything to him, he suddenly let all that self awareness fall weak for a second at the shock of who was in front of him now. Louis would never admit how his jaw went a little slack, how his heart rate piked.

“Who- who,” Louis realised his composure - or lack of - and cleared his throat. He flicked his fringe to the side and tightened his hold on his keys a little, “Who are you?”

And if Louis felt stupid for asking an abhorrently obvious question that he already knew the answer to then he didn’t show it. 

The boy made no effort to hide his arrogance. Turning around so they were front to front he ran his eyes down Louis’ slight build, head to toe and then _back_ again lingering on his thigh region for a second before his lips stretched into a sly smile.

“An unjustly tortured soul,” He pulled lazy eyes up to Louis’. Lazy, but mighty powerful in their effect, “you must be my salvation.”

Why was he smirking like that? Louis definitely did not appreciate that smirk.

Louis scoffed. Lifted his hand to cover the blaze from the sunlight so he could properly - and purposefully slowly - survey this intolerance before him. Then scoffed again, a sarcastic laugh filtering through once he’d made his point.

“As much as I agree to the fact you are in dire need of help, you’re not going to find that from me.”

The taller boy smiled, seemingly unaffected by Louis’ obvious disapproval and took a step forward, rolling full lips in on themselves making a pair of very familiar dimples appear either side. Louis gradually lifted his chin to maintain eye contact with the boy who was practically hovering over him now.

“Oh I’m sure I can find a way for you to assist me.”

Louis raised his eyebrows slowly, neck aching with his head at such an angle and eyes straining to see his features as the sun cast a bright light behind him rendering him nothing but a silhouette. 

“Well,” He was too stubborn to just take a step back to lessen the strain, all to stand his ground in the presence of someone who was clearly trying to intimidate him, “while you get to figuring that out, I would like to ask you to kindly turn the volume down, or better yet, _off_.”

The strange boy smiled even brighter then, a chuckle from somewhere low in his sternum barely loud enough to hear. 

“In that case you better change your mind about helping me then.”

“Excuse me?”

“You see up there?” The boy pointed his left arm - the one that had the roman numerals next to some Latin cursive text on his inner forearm that Louis tried to quickly translate - behind himself towards the area of the school doors, “my Brother is up there and is frolicking around with that lady. I would go over there and drag him away myself but last time I did that he got a little violent.” 

Louis followed his line of vision and when he saw who he was expecting to see, it confirmed everything.

“You’re talking about Harry right? I thought you had an unfortunate familiarity about you,” Louis popped his hip to the side, sighing when he had to cover his eyes again from the sun to adequately see up hill, “I knew he were a twin but, you know.”

“Unfortunate?”

Louis squinted up at the lanky boy with glasses, in a crisp white button up and brown tailored chinos, chatting away with an animated face to one of the science professors, big hand gestures an all. Then back at his twin, who he still hadn’t learnt the name of, black skinny jeans with god awful rips, black t-shirt and littered in body art. It was already clear how different they were from each other and Louis wondered how on earth these two world apart personalities could’ve ever been made from the same cell.

“Wait Harry got violent?” Louis did a double take on the boy next to him, only just registering what was said to him seconds ago, “I’m sorry but I find that hard to believe, if anyone was the more turbulent one…” Louis’ plain objection to all things that constructed the boy besides him was all that was needed to finish off the open statement. 

“You sound surprised.” 

“Please, you’re telling me that _that_ ,” Louis tipped his head towards the twin he were familiar with, the one who had just looked over at the same time and is now a bumbling mess down the steps, heading straight in their direction, “built enough rage to inflict damage to another?”

They looked over in unison at Harry, who was quickly scrambling around on the floor for the books he’d dropped in his fast descent of the steps. All long limbs tangling over the other in haste. 

The other twin however, abandoned this and frowned at the far more appealing sight of the shorter boy next to him then, the left overs of a bemused smirk a whisper on his lips as he realised just how clean his Brother’s image really was. Louis was suddenly himself, very familiar.

“You must be Louis.”

Louis snapped his head up at the boy, sun having long disappeared behind a cloud and was wide eyed, searching for an explanation with eyes a similar shade to said cloud.

“How did y-”

“ _Edward!_ ”

Louis closed his mouth with a small snap and looked back at Harry who was striding up to them, not ten feet away. 

From this distance Louis could see just how identical the two boys were. Before, even though it was obvious they were twins, their mirrored features were less apparent due to their opposing styles, but right here, stood less than a metre apart they were literally the same person. Two sides to one coin. 

“Yes Brother.” _Edward_ , smiled. Full and toothy at his flustered sibling, knowing very well what was up with him.

“Edward, don’t we- we have somewhere to be remember?” Harry jostled the textbooks into his leather satchel, frowning at the fastening that just didn’t seem to want to co operate. 

“Oh so _now_ you’re listening?” Edward was beaming and Louis felt like he was caught in between something he shouldn’t be, “Well, you were so caught up in your conversation over there I decided to take the time to do my own networking.”

He looked at Louis with the innocence of a child. Grin still plastered, eyes glistening. But Louis saw the flicker, the twitch of his lips as he stretched them, the trace of something less clear in his eye.

Harry smacked the flap to his satchel shut letting it fall at his side again, the strap pulling a heavy weight on his shoulder as he looked straight to Louis, a shy smile taking the place of the mildly clipped tone he adopted with his Brother. 

“Louis, please excuse us but we have to get going.”

“I’m really not bothered,” Louis shrugged, feeling something akin to nervous all of sudden and not understanding why, “I was only trying to shut your Brother up.”

Harry couldn’t have looked more empathetic if he tried and Louis’ suspicions about Edward being the more troublesome twin were confirmed right there and then.

“I apologise on behalf of Edward,” He didn’t look at Edward once, shaking his head on the last part, “It appears he lacks the basic understandings of public conduct.”

Edward rocked forward on his heels next to Louis, hands shoved deep in his pockets now, muscles in his forearms tensing as he did. 

“I must say I’m impressed Harry,” Edward threw him another look, something deliberate and false, darker than what seemed necessary, “you’ve managed to create quite the image for yourself here.”

Harry tore his eyes away from the small boy to meet Edward’s accusing gaze. Something lodged into his own eyes in that second, something feral and unknown and completely foreign to anything Harry usually encompasses.

Louis suddenly felt very small. Or trapped. He wasn't entirely sure. Throwing a very sound mental _fuck you_ to the voice in his head that reminded him that he actually was just very small, noting how never before has he felt so vulnerable and aware of how alone he was. And he still had no idea why.

“Louis again, please excuse us,” Harry looked back down to him now and the smile was tight, genuine but failing to meet his eyes, “we really do have to go.”

There was something off. This was more than sibling rivalry.

And Louis didn’t know why he cared for any of it. But he found himself glued to the spot again, watching as Harry made his way with Edward across the forecourt and into the gleaming SUV parked in a private spot. Louis took a second to tally that as another offence this Edward had made. No regard for public conduct and no respect for personal property. 

He shook his head as Edward shut the driver side door with more force than was necessary and peeled his eyes away, hating himself for staring for this long.

Taking the long way around this time, to make his way back to his own vehicle he pulled his phone out of the back pocket, a brass engine roaring to life somewhere behind him and cursed when he saw the time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This may end up being longer than four chapters. I don't know yet.

Harry didn’t attend school the next day. The weekend came and went and he was a no show come Monday too. 

And Louis thought it surprising how many people had noticed. He found it particularly surprising how many of his friends had been bringing it up too. 

“Styles is absent again.” Liam, his trusty stooge, his social butterfly come savvy, suave, business minded eighteen year old best friend said the most obvious thing since last December where he stepped out onto his front porch covered in 2 feet of snow and declared it as ‘ _a bit nippy_ ’.

“So?”

“So nothing really,” He replied, leaning back in the plastic chair to place his legs on top of the table in front of them in the food hall only to quickly remove them again after Louis slapped his ankles, “just weird isn’t it?”

“You’re weird, Payno.”

“Actually it is weird, Harry _never_ misses school. I don’t think he’s ever missed a class so it’s weird he’s missed two full days in a row, well if you exclude the weekend and that.” Jake, his other side kick, licked his lips after finishing up his last mouthful of some cookie crunch milkshake across from him. This pushed all Louis’ efforts to try and resist his own cravings back to square one, closing his eyes as Jake exhaled on a long sigh and he was emerged in the scent of chocolate and cream as it wafted over.

He shrugged, not caring much at all about his absence.

“Well let’s hope this absence transcends into Friday…” Louis pushed his salad around his plate, giving Liam a quick _look_ before pushing the plate away completely and standing up from his chair.

Liam raised his hands in surrender.

“Aw come on Louis,” Jake tilted his head, amused by his friend’s pique, “he’s not all bad.”

“No you’re right he’s awful, he’s a freak,” Louis spoke with conviction, astounded that he were two against one and seemed to be the only sane one among them, “he’s a loner, he can’t get a full sentence out without stuttering and I couldn’t tell you three solid facts about him because he doesn’t speak to anyone for longer than a minute so yes, forgive me if I’m a little irked about his _involuntary_ invitation.”

Louis huffed and stormed off to the milkshake counter leaving Liam and Jake chuckling to themselves as they watched him go, neither loving nothing more than ruffling his feathers.

 

*

 

The week pushed on. Mundane Monday dragged depressingly slow with it’s only conversation being about the lack of a certain student and Louis was over it. Thankfully Tuesday soon came and Louis had finished up tallying up the cost of expenses for the alcohol alone which came to a staggering - or quite reasonable in Liam’s eyes - £2,128.56. Louis was gobsmacked at the amount this had come to with his supply alone and that’s excluding what his parent’s already have in their bar at home.

_“But I just don’t understand how it’s come to this much? Ben is bringing the ten bottles of Cristal which are £650 a pop, David and Ellie are bringing those three bottles of Sinatra Whiskey and they’re £300 odd and others are bound to bring other bits and bobs so with that added expense alone it’s going to be well over £10,000… how the living hell- do we really need that much?”_

_“You’ve got your bar too, which I trust is readily stocked courtesy of Mr and Mrs Tomlinson?”_

_“Of course, always. Oh for goodness' sake this is way too-”_

_“-it’s excellent.” Liam waves his hand dismissively, “Stop worrying Louis, having a fine and vast selection of beverages is a sign of a spectacular host.”_

_“Well I suppose you’re right. I just hope people can handle their liquor or else I can see this going south real quick.”_

 

Wednesday reared it’s ugly head in the form of several rumoured threats from the public school a few streets away - ‘Abbey Upper’ - with a couple of students there planning to supposedly crash the party, causing Louis to beg his parents to employ security men for the entire day and evening just incase. However Wednesday’s turbulence was soon forgotten when it came to Thursday’s proceedings of final preparations including: triple checking he hadn’t double booked the catering or the sound people like last time, checking he’s gotten enough cash for any emergencies, combing through the 150 people on the guest list for the eighth time and the black list so said security would know who to turn away if anyone fancied their chances and finally going shopping after classes were finished to buy a new pair of trunks.

Finally Friday had rolled around and the whole school was buzzed with excitement. Last minute, Louis and Liam - mainly from Liam’s constant nagging and Louis wanting him to shut up - extended the guest list to 170. 

Throughout the day Louis had been met with the people who had been added last minute with overly grateful ‘thankyous’ and promises that they won’t let him down and they’ll keep it hush hush.

Louis obviously took it all in his stride, accepting their gratitude with a small smile and a nod every time.

It was now 3PM and school had kicked out for Louis. And, of course, for his chosen disciples following a few choice words of persuasion - throw in a minor faux threat from his parents and they were good to go - to the class professors and they were currently setting up the outside pool area. 

Louis had just finished lining up the last of the seventy loungers he’d had his Father order, around the main pool, already working up a slight sweat from the relentless sun burning onto his back throughout, when he decided he’d take a well deserved break in the shade and joined Liam and co at the bar. 

“I’m telling you, he’s in _love_ with you.”

“Oh shut up Liam.”

“How can you not see it?” 

“I’m familiar with the primal activity of boys and _he_ , is anything but.” Louis took a swig out of his water bottle, the ice cold condensation making it slippery but satisfyingly cool to his hot palms.

“Whatever, all I know is he get’s another level of nervous around you it’s just so bloody obvious, you’re lying to yourself if you say you don’t see it.”

Liam sat back, looking all leisure and luxury on the leather bar stool in his white shorts and crisp salmon pink button up complete with silver watch clipped around his left wrist. He was tapping a bare foot on the iced front of the bar looking at Louis with a smug grin.

“Why are you suddenly obsessed with Harry anyway? You’ve spoken about him an awful lot recently,” Louis squinted at him with a furrowed brow, running the back of his palm over the slight clamminess of his forehead, “anyone would think it’s _you_ with the crush.” 

Liam grimaced and Percy chose that exact moment to shoot up from behind the bar, chewing on some glaciered cherries which earned a nettled look from Louis. He swallowed deliberately slow and popped his mouth when he was done, winking at Louis who had already snatched the jar from underneath him.

“P what do you think?” Liam tipped his chin towards the boy who was mocking a scowl.

“About what?”

“Harry, Harry Styles.”

“Absolute weirdo.” 

“No I mea- wait you don’t even know him!” Liam replied, apparently quite offended on behalf of someone he barely says three words to on a daily basis. Beside him Louis nodded his head, pointing a finger at Percy in agreement. 

He shrugged in response, going along the side with a flannel to soak up the moisture from the chilled bottles, “I know enough.”

“So just because he’s a little bit quiet-”

“-no see that’s where you’re wrong, he’s _too_ quiet. He’s decisively intelligent, scarily so, but he’s too quiet.” Percy pointed at Liam with the damp cloth hanging limp between his fingers, “silence and intelligence equals cunning and cunning can only amount to evil.”

Liam frowned at Percy, then to Louis who was looking like he was deciding whether he agreed with the comment, then back at Percy.

“Two hundred fat ones he’ll be the mastermind behind a plan to overtake the Russian embassy or something in the next ten years, right now, I’ll hold you to it.” Percy held out his hand across the bar.

“Are you seri-”

“-Deadly.”

Liam rolled his eyes, but on deciding he was no man to stand down a challenge he shook his hand anyway, standing up a little over dramatically on a singular nod of his head. Louis was a light chorus of giggles at his side.

“Fine, two hundred pounds he turns out to be a _normal_ chap.”

“Done.”

“Done.” They let go and Liam pointed a finger, “Don’t think I’ll forget about this either.”

Louis muttered something about them being ridiculous before he heard an abrupt commotion from inside the conservatory, all three heads tilting to see and when Louis caught a glimpse of the men that were bringing his brand new barbecue through nearly drop it half way on the _solid marble floor_ , he was up in a heart beat.

“Anyway,” Liam watched him take off at lightning speed before turning back, pulling the bar stool underneath him, “that’s not even what I wanted to ask.”

Percy waited for Louis to have disappeared behind the glass door to whip the cherry jar back and pop another sweet treat into his mouth.

“Hm?” He questioned through his next hasten mouthfuls, constantly side eyeing the direction in which he’d fled.

“I reckon Harry has a massive thing for Louis.”

“You mean,” Percy swallowed painfully, the lump from shoving too many cherries in his mouth at once proving too large for his oesophagus to handle, “… like a crush?”

“Yeah, a huge one.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“Harry Styles?”

“No, Potter, yes of course Harry Styles you nit.”

Percy scoffed, then took a moment to peer at Liam to see if he were actually being serious. Which he was.

“Nope, there’s no way. I don’t think he even knows what his dick’s for.”

“Well I think he’s cute.” Lucy came in from somewhere behind them, completely out of the blue making them both turn around with varying expressions of surprise.

“ _Cute_?”

She sashayed around the bar to deposit a box of rose wine in the corner, out of sight, adding to the copious amount of alcohol already stacked there.

“Yes cute. And quite handsome. If you look beyond the jitters there’s some serious appeal going on there.” She stole a cherry from the jar, shaking her head no when Percy tried to palm it off on her, feeling quite sick all of a sudden.

“And who or what is it appealing to exactly? A scout for an anxiety commercial?” He said, wanting to laugh but the self induced nausea stopping him.

Lucy snatched the damp towel from his hands and swatted his back with it on a swift snap of her wrist.

“Shut up Percy. Gosh, you boys are so mean sometimes.” 

 

*

 

“Wait, so how many did you click through?”

The man looked at Louis then back at his clicker, which read 181. 

“One hundred and eight one, young sir.”

“ _One hundred an_ \- what was the point of employing you if you were going to just let anyone in anyway?”

“Louis they all-”

“I don’t want to hear it Bruce,” Louis held up a hand, already walking back through the foyer, "My parents will be happy to know you failed at your job when they return tomorrow." 

He had just about had enough. First the barbecue incident, then the money going missing and now this. He had eleven uninvited anomalies in his back yard and he was going to go round and pick out each and every one and whether that took him the rest of the evening then so be it.

He padded back through the house, sunglasses dangling loosely between his forefinger and thumb, right up until he came to the kitchen which overlooked the pool where various people were dotted about taking a break from the outside humidity. 

Someone grabbed Louis arm as he passed the breakfast bar, a girl, a tall girl with long dirty blonde hair and with the alcohol flowing in his bloodstream it took Louis a second or two to remember her name.

“Cara, hi, yeah can I get back to you? I’m kind of on a mission right now.” He sighed, looked down quickly, taking in her bright red bikini that he couldn’t help think looked a little bit like a bondage contraption, “you look stunning by the way.”

“Aw thanks man as do you, like _always_ but wait a mission?” She pulled a funny face, eyebrows nearly knotting together, “at your own party?”

“Yeah well, apparently there are a few people who can’t quite grasp the meaning of a guest list.”

Her green eyes popped out and she made a small ‘o’ with her lips, “No way, dude I can help you if you like?”

She propositioned with her hands held out before her, one of those holding a bottle of Budweiser. Her bright eyes and adorable smile was a difficult ensemble to deny. Even for Louis. Plus two pairs of eyes were better than one and he really didn’t want to waste anytime in locating the free loaders and kicking them out. So on a small inclination of his head he beckoned for her to follow and she couldn’t look more excited about it, hopping a little as she came beside him to walk through and out of the conservatory. 

“So, where do we start?” She necked the last of her beer and placed it on the ground next to the stone steps they were stood at the top of, peering out at the extensive mass of bodies before them.

“We’ll go clockwise round the pool.”

“I always preferred anti -clockwise myself.”

“Okay, anti clockwise then, but we can’t miss out any section even in the gardens a-”

“-no no wait let’s do clockwise you’re right, more systematic that way.”

Louis stopped, hands raised mid air from motioning while speaking and looked at her dead on.

She smiled. Oblivious, nodded as she brought the purple ray bans that were sitting atop her head down to serve their purpose.

“Clockwise.” Louis repeated, still staring at her.

“Clockwise. No area left unchecked. No group left un turned. No person left un-”

“-great you get the idea, let’s go.”

And with a giddy sound from Cara they took the stairs in unison and set off on their shared mission. 

It wasn’t until twenty minutes later when they’d reached the twelve o clock position of the pool, that he finally spotted his first intruder, sat lounged on one of the chairs, a plastic cup of an amber fluid, full and swirling in his hand and a tattoo of some sort of dragon or _something_ reptilian vining around his left calf.

“Excuse me?” Louis checked for Cara but couldn’t see her anywhere, before stepping forward and around the couple of girls who were making their way to the pool side, both smiling and giggling at Louis on the way past, “yes hello, um, who are you?”

The boy looked up through hazel eyes, frowning a little at Louis’ hand on hip posture and demanding gaze. 

“Um, Ryan? And you are?”

Someone Louis did recognise, stood up from the end of a lounger directly to his right and spoke before he could.

“Louis, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Ben.

“Ben!” Switching personalities instantaneously, Louis held out his arms to initiate a hug from the six foot boy, earning two strong arms clasping him around his middle. It wasn’t exactly the worst feeling in the world to be pressed against such a physique, Louis mused, while humming delightfully into his neck as the taller boy let go.

“Louis forgive me but, I invited Ryan.” 

“Oh, he’s your friend?”

Ben nodded, biting his lip, eyes making no attempt at being subtle when traveling down Louis’ own tight body, replying with a distracted, “Yeah…”

“Well,” Louis held out a hand for Ryan to take, who was already standing and regarding Louis with the same lewdness, “a friend of Ben's a friend of mine.”

Ryan took it and went on to explain how he wanted to introduce himself properly before, but with Louis being an elusive host he couldn’t. Which all was accepted by said host, outlining how difficult it is to keep up with so many guests, doing the rounds of so many people and requests and how he had to sort out some cash issues earlier on.

Bottom line Louis decided to forgive this one. And yes it had absolutely everything to do with the fact Ben had came through on his promise of the ten bottles of £650 a bottle champagne and Louis had already polished one off by himself. And Ben was okay really. Beyond the wandering eyes. 

Louis left promptly with the feeling of two eyes burning into his ass as he walked off, coming up to the jumbo jacuzzi area that had attracted it’s own sizeable crowd, most of which seemed to be centred around one particular individual and-

_“Edward?”_

Louis’ mouth hung open off the end of the name as he nearly choked on it, feet stuck to the spot, hand raised to shield the setting sun as his eyes made a one track line towards the boy sat right in the middle of the bubbling pool, black snap back turned back, donning black shades with two tattooed arms draped either side of two girls pushed up beside him.

Edwards’ stoic expression as he pulled back from a boy who had crouched behind him whispering something in his ear shifted completely when he clasped eyes on who had called his name. The exact same smirk that he was met with in the parking lot a week ago stretched slowly onto his face.

The _exact_ smirk Louis still didn’t appreciate.

Most heads had turned to Louis and now back at Edward, his raised voice audible over the booming sound system. 

“Louis!” Edward’s voice travelled so loud, the scratched grit of it that literally tore through Louis’ ear drums cascaded over the bass from the speakers as he stood up from the water.

Louis shook his head, just about ready to go _off_ when he was caught off guard by the same boy for an entirely different reason. 

Edward pulled up and out of the jacuzzi in one quick motion, water gushing down over the long, lean muscle of his torso as it contracted, drying out in odd patches instantly over the span of a strong set of shoulders and chest and creating a shiny layer that highlighted every other perfectly formed _wretched_ muscle of his body.

Louis gulped down, tasting the last glass of champagne he’d finished over half an hour ago, feeling a little more light headed than before. Something bubbled in his stomach as Edward made his way around. That was the champagne too.

“I must say you disappoint me,” His voice was like warm honey; wet and sticky and seemed to cling to the inside of Louis’ own throat making it very difficult to breath. Edward sauntered up on long legs until he was a foot away from him, pushing his glasses onto his hat, smelling like coconut and looking every bit like a very literal wet dream, “you took longer than I expected.”

There was something about this boy Louis hated. Something being everything down to the cocky cluck of his tongue. But he was yet again, glued to the spot.

Louis was silent for a second and it was the longest second ever recorded on planet earth. 

He tried. He really tried to not look, but clearing his throat into a closed fist he found it a wasted opportunity if he didn’t make the most of his bowed head to divert his gaze to those two impossibly prominent lines of muscle leading into black shorts. Lines that were untouched by ink. His whole torso bar a skull positioned at the middle of his ribcage was unmarked and Louis found himself following the water droplet making it's way from his belly button, catching on the couple of hairs on his naval and slowly dow- 

“Louis?”

He looked back up and it took him everything to not slap the boy across the face with the frustratingly - apparently _permanent_ \- smug grin plastered across his features.

“What are you doing here?”

Edward took one step forward and snaked a equally solid arm around his waist, pulling them flush against each other effortlessly, “Happy Birthday, sweet pea.”

Louis was still adjusting to the shock really. And that was the excuse he was going to use if anyone asked why he didn’t try to push away that very instance.

"It's not until tomorrow actually, this is just a," Louis licked his lips as Edward dragged his bottom one through his incisors, "- you know, a pre party."

"Hm, so you're not eighteen until midnight?"

Louis shook his head, weirdly drawn into Edward for a second, delaying his reaction to how Edward's damp shorts were settling into his own dry ones. 

“But,” He let Edward guide his arms up and around his neck, noting how this allowed for him to let his own hands find a resting place at Louis’ sinfully narrow waist, “but you can’t just- you weren’t invited…”

Edward leant forward, enjoying the sweet scent that laid at Louis’ neck. He hummed softly, but Edward’s soft was anything but gentle, causing his skin to run a riot and hairs to rise, the vibrating sound fizzing through his body.

“I know and I’m quite offended,” He got distracted by Louis’ overwhelming purity. Listening to the soft gasps that were detectable to no one but him as he nipped at the tender skin there, revelling in how Louis was actually allowing this to happen, “you’re quite naughty for inviting my Brother and not me.”

Louis didn’t remember closing his eyes.

But at the mention of Harry’s name he was snapped out of whatever the fuck it was he’d been lulled into and pulled back immediately, putting his hands on the broad expanse of Edwards’ chest, fingertips feeling hot on top of the hard muscle, eye’s following the patterns of the ink littered sporadically there.

“Harry’s here?” Louis craned his neck to look up at him.

And there it was again, that look that he’d shot Harry in the forecourt that afternoon. The same look Harry had returned with equal measure seconds later. Louis closed his mouth, gulping. He would take the smirk over that look any time.

“Of course,” Edward let his thumbs trail down the soft lines of Louis' subtle abdominal muscle, desperately trying to rein in the feeling rising in his chest, “it would take death for Harry to deny any invitation of yours.”

Conversations from earlier on in the afternoon flashed to the forefront of Louis mind. 

“Well, that’s a little-” now Louis had regained full control of his body and pushed back less than appropriate thoughts he’ll never admit to, he tried unwinding Edward’s tight grasp, “-over the top - could you - if you could please- _Edward_.”

Louis looked up through the palest blue eyes and all but stamped his foot, polishing it off with a pout which he ironed out instantly.

Edward wasn’t letting him go and never before had Louis’ height and general size been highlighted now that he’s within a relenting cincture of this infuriating tall, strong, broad and all things Louis generally was _not_ , boy.

“Edward, let me go.” He wasn’t going to be intimidated.

The boy did nothing but roll his lips and without breaking contact his hands manoeuvred their way south by just a touch, squeezing the flesh of his hips. 

Louis’ hands shot to them then, a gasp he couldn’t contain from the pressure slipping past his lips.

“Edward…” He looked at the crowds of people surrounding them, all at different levels of inebriation, all too involved in their conversations to be paying any attention to his struggle, “please, people will see.”

Strong arms utilised their advantage then, pulling Louis as close as before and his voice dripped venom against his ear. 

“Let them watch.”

Louis hiccuped on a high pitched noise at the two large hands kneading his behind then, long fingers finding no difficulty in grabbing the entirety of each cheek and _squeezing_ with enough force it felt like it would surely bruise. 

“Oh my g-” Louis’ body pressed further into his, the smaller arch of his front fitting perfectly into the curve of Edwards’ more extensive torso, “E-Edward _stop_!” Louis pushed him away then, his physical strength was nothing in comparison but the power behind his voice instead got Edward listening, dropping his hands instantly to allow Louis to stagger back, feet padding back on the damp tiles.

Louis stood for a second, letting what just happened sink in.

“I’m - I’m going to look for Harry.”

Edward, although he’d let go, didn’t look like he was sorry for any of it. He was unapologetically brazen and those eyes were still looking at him with the same raging hostility since he’d brought up Harry, the green of them giving way to the black of his pupil as it expanded, which even from this distance was hauntingly evident. Edward’s chest heaved, his breath could be seen pushing through his nostrils as his lips sealed tight, eyes lowered watching Louis stutter.

“D-don’t-” Louis didn’t know what he wanted to say. He just needed to leave.

Edward said nothing. Did nothing. Louis didn’t wait any longer for him to either, quickly checking once again to see if anyone was watching before ducking his head and walking past him at a fast pace, heart hammering as the eyes he was doing everything to avoid followed him. 

Louis didn’t do this, this wasn’t him; he didn’t bow down to anybody. No one cowered him into a corner, he was certainly not someone who would quake under pressure or step down from opposition and yet here he was, feeling like he’d just stared something close to death in the eye and feeling like he’d left a part of him imprinted into those heavy hands.

Voices carried past him, blurred noises in his ears as he set off to look for the other boy, the one with the same face, the same eyes, but held extremely opposing intentions. 

Harry really didn’t seem that bad right now after all. The lesser of two evils for sure. 

But first, he needed a drink. A sobering one.

Head still firmly bowed Louis surged forward, he ignored the abundance of voices calling his name as he zoned out the crowds shifting around him, bodies bumping and moving to the music, not wanting to stop walking until he saw the metal of the bar and felt the cold liquid release of water running down his throat instead of down his back. 

Edward had made him sweat. 

A boy he’d met twice had managed to make him buckle under his touch and Louis couldn’t stand it. Wanted to get as far away as possible from it. 

He tried not think about how he could feel the ghost of those palms on his oversensitive skin.

Finally reaching the bar, having relied on auto pilot to get him there, Louis grabbed the cold steel pole running along the lining for support as his venture came to a dizzying stop. He snatched a plastic water bottle from the plastic case, cursing lightly when it got stuck and yanked it a little too forcefully making him tumble back and lose his balance completely.

“Oomph-” Louis gripped the bar, but before his futile attempt at stopping his tumble proved itself worthless - and painful - there were two arms around him, a pair of large hands that spanned across the front of his ribs, “- _oh my goodness_ …” 

The bottle went flying out his other hand and bounced away, the contents spilling as it did. 

Louis fought to regain his stance, with the assistance of the large hands around his middle, guiding him up swiftly.

“I - I’m so sorry, thank you so much-” Louis brushed his fringe to the side, flicking his head to tame the stray hairs as he turned to the person who had caught him. 

His heart beat however, didn’t tame, when he saw who those hands belonged to.

Green eyes met his for a brief moment, wide and curious, lips popping apart on a soft breath before he surveyed Louis’ body with concerned austerity as if he were afraid he’d broken something. His voice was coated in the same thick stickiness as the one he’d just escaped from, carried on that throaty grumble as always, “Are you alright?”


	3. Chapter 3

_Are you alright._

Was he alright? 

Technically no. But how does Louis go about explaining to Edward’s identical counterpart that he actually is in fact more than mildly shook from his lack of comprehension when it comes to personal boundaries, overbearing insistence on breaking every line of basic human conduct and eyes that looked like they were trying to make him bleed from the inside out. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” So he skirts round it instead, willing his voice to come out strong and steady unlike the ungiving hammering in his chest right now, “thanks for catching me, I lost my footing.”

An empty statement; obvious and dull. Louis was neither. 

There was something wrong.

Harry had studied every twist of this boy’s body language from the farthest corner of a room for over five years now. He can predict what Louis is going to say before he said it, could estimate the exact arch of his eyebrow raise at someone’s incredulous comment it was almost as if he were the one typing up his inner narrative.

“That’s okay, you weigh equivalent to that of a marshmallow so it was really no bother.” Harry smiled anyway, just another thing he’s wittled down to perfection in this time.

A giggle bubbled from Louis rather unexpectedly, genuinely endeared for a second at Harry’s joke. But when he brought his crinkled eyes up to meet his, the humour was soon forgotten and he cleared his throat.

“You look good Styles,” He didn’t want his fragile vulnerability to be seen, he’d never felt so transparent and he’d _never_ thought he’d feel this nervous in current company, “especially without those spectacles.”

And, although Louis were pushing to keep up his facade, he couldn’t really deny how _different_ Harry looked. Good different, definitely good different. 

“Oh right, yeah,” Harry giggled through a peculiar quirk to his lips, “I need glasses to read and what with reading being a massive part of school, I just, I keep them on.”

He appeared broader than normal. Taller perhaps too, donning a plain white t-shirt and burnt orange shorts on the bottom with his hair mussed out of it’s usual neat quiff, slightly shorter than his Brother's but still holding the same dishevelled curl. Louis supposed he were most surprised he came in swim gear at all, imagining Harry any sort of near naked was somewhat amusing. 

“Well it looks better, you should consider lenses.”

And if that’s what Louis suggests then that’s what Harry will do. He was already thinking of when he was free to make an appointment at his opticians when Louis turned away from him again, something dropping from his features.

He would normally be the one leading the conversation, summoning Harry’s inner strife every time they spoke with his contrasting egotistical nature and soft gestures. That’s all the boy was to everyone really; brilliant and quite aware of said brilliance. But Harry saw the tender edges, he saw the vulnerability when no one else was looking, in places no one even cared to look.

Louis was faltering. 

Harry looked to the small hands pulling a bar stool back so he could lift himself up onto it, slender, toned arms doing so with ease. He was avoiding eye contact with Harry altogether and this really wasn’t alright. 

“Louis?” Harry saw the flinch.

“Yeah?” Louis replied, motioned to one of the three bar tenders for some ice, another professional hired by his parents to ensure smooth running of the event - raking in a couple of extra hundred on top of their wages to duly ignore the age of some guests.

“Pardon me for saying but you still look a little disorientated,” He licked his lips, quick and hesitant, “are you absolutely sure you’re okay?”

Harry stepped forward and Louis closed his eyes for a beat, letting the same sweet scent of coconut infiltrate his senses. The only difference was there was a more sandalwood tone this time; something a little sharper.

Louis flicked his head to the side, elbows and hands relaxed on the bar top. 

“I’ve just nearly fallen to my death,” Louis deadpanned and Harry could’ve called the sarcastic tilt of his head, “maybe that has something to do with it?”

Harry stared. 

Louis didn’t. Couldn’t.

“No look, I’m okay, really,” He smiled but he wondered if it were convincing, “just a little annoyed I guess.”

“Why?” Harry’s response was immediate, already taking the glass from the bar tender with a small nod, accepting the item that was full of ice. 

“I…” Louis saw this, eyebrows twitched slightly as Harry was behind him for a second, their eye level was now only equal, even with Louis’ raised position on the stool, “-I guess I just don’t like it when things don’t exactly go to plan.”

Harry twisted off the bottle cap with a swift flick of his wrist, pouring out the liquid over the ice, brow furrowed in concentration.

“I heard there was some cash that went missing earlier, is that what you mean?”

Harry was confused. He’d sorted it. He absolutely sorted it, Louis got the cash back. _If that bast-_

“No that was found,” Louis shook his head, taking the now full glass with both hands, fingers spanning over the wide tumbler, “just people stepping over boundaries, inviting themselves and what not.”

Louis’ puckered lips attached to the rim of the glass, head tilted back by a touch as he revelled in the taste he’d been anchoring for, Adam’s apple bobbing with his desperate chugging.

With his attention engaged elsewhere, eyes closed, only then did Harry allow himself to soak up the scene that he had been blessed with. Eyes never seeming to gather enough skin in one swoop, going over the same tight curve several times just incase he missed something, noting how his tan reminded him of a creamed coffee in this light, how it glowed in the flattering low rise of the sun. 

Harry watched everything with practised restraint. Committing it to memory. 

“So…” His eyes glazed over, mind momentarily getting lost in the exposed flesh of Louis’ neck, the smacking of his pink lips, “these people, are they bothering you?”

If Harry had to grip the bar to stop his vivid imagination - tempting the reflex he has to stamp down constantly - something that was crippling him a little worse for wear right now with the catalyst of alcohol racing through his veins then that was okay. 

Louis placed the back of his hand against his mouth while he swallowed the last of his drink, blissfuly ignorant to the older boy’s struggle, “Bothering is a loose term, I guess just the principal is bothering me.”

If it took a _physical_ hold to keep his mind sewn together for just that while longer, just to get through the conversation, then so be it.

Harry was all ears. Louis was upset and that just wouldn’t do.

There was not a living cell in any near or far organism that could prepare Harry however, for the physical contact that was going to be initiated by Louis in that next second.

“Look it doesn’t matter,” Louis’ hand was waving through the air, flicking his wrist in that cute way he always does when he’s dismissing something, “but Harry, I do need your help with one thing.” 

Harry’s breath ceased when it landed on his bicep. 

It was barely even enough to count as _contact_ but it was the first of it’s kind. Louis had touched him, on purpose. Louis was there and had his hand delicately placed upon his arm. 

“Anything-,” The rasp in his voice was swallowed, shaking his head, “what, what do you need?”

Louis had decided to ditch the act. They were brothers. And one was uninvited. This was his party and he wasn’t going to let anything else get in the way, even if that means recruiting someone else - quite frankly the last person he thought he’d _ever_ turn to for such a thing - to aid. 

“Edward is here.”

Harry toyed with idea of playing dumb. He pressed his lips together and absorbed the preciousness before him, taking in the nervous edge to Louis’ usual confidence, not missing the slight hitch his breath, the hesitation on his lips as they moulded to cater to his Brother’s name.

“I know.” He felt ashamed, witnessing how this had obviously effected Louis and he hadn’t done anything to warn him prior. He ran a hand through his mussed hair.

“And a couple of other’s from Abbey Upper too.” 

That, Harry also knew. His Brother’s school and it’s attendees was something he himself held a strong disregard for. For other reasons. Either way, their being here was detrimental in one way or another yet he knew he couldn’t do anything about it; Edward was a sort of ring leader when it came to stuff like this and if he’d announced he were going to crash a posh kid’s party then there was no one who was going to refuse him.

“I need you to keep an eye on him,” Louis leans forward for the person behind him trying to reach for a bottle of vodka, “he’s, well he’s here and I don’t know him but I get the feeling he’s not going to listen to anyone but you.”

Harry could’ve laughed out loud. Could’ve died of the hysterical thought alone of Edward complying to anything but his own stubborn tendencies, but didn’t. Instead he nods, tearing his eyes away for a tiny moment to spy the exact spot in the distance he knew his Brother was occupying. 

“He’s an arse,” Harry looks as if he was saying it to himself, but his volume indicated otherwise, turning from looking out at the crowds and back to the boy trying to pry another bottle of water from the cellophane wrapper, “I’m afraid once my Brother has an idea planted in his head it’s difficult to shake it back out.”

“Yeah, I believe that.”

Harry’s eyes widened, zoning out everything but Louis. While every comment, everything he’d just witnessed in that past five minutes suddenly zoned in on him.

Edward was the reason. Edward was here and he was the reason Louis was- 

“It’s Edward isn’t it?”

“Edward, is here yes…” Louis pouted when he saw the bottom of his glass, realising it’d been that way for a while and placed it back on the side.

“Louis what has he done?” 

Harry was in front of him, but Louis was sure he wasn’t that close before. He shuffled his bum a little in the seat, flicking his eyes down the strange boy before him who was leaning a little forward.

“Um.. ” The grip Harry had on the metal railing around the bar top would be suffocating if it were mortal.

“Louis.” A warning? It definitely sounded like it.

Louis’ eyes shot back up, fish mouthing dumbly a little. Harry was demanding and Harry was _never_ anything of the sort.

“I don’t think it’s what he did so m-”

“-did he hurt you?”

One sentence and Louis suddenly understood Harry more than he ever thought would be possible. One sentence, teamed with the eyes that were hooked onto Louis’ and a death grip to the bar and Louis got a frightening insight to Harry’s world.

“No,” Louis swallowed hard, carried on shaking his head a little, “no.”

And only then did the tension give; Harry softening at his response. Not much, but the answer seems to settle something inside of him. 

Louis couldn’t help but notice how his hand was still holding the bar with the same gusto. He also couldn’t help but notice how the muscles in his bicep were pulled tight, the tendons in his inner forearm straining from the infliction. Muscles Louis didn’t realise existed on the boy.

“Alright,” The rasp was back, heavy. But he didn’t clear it this time, “do you want him to leave?”

Louis felt like his next response would determine many things beyond Edward’s departure and if he felt uncomfortable before, it was nothing compared to the jarring pressure currently clawing its way up his throat.

He barely shook his head before Harry licked his lips and was shaking it with him.

“No?”

“N-no, thank you.” Louis surprised himself with the answer. 

Harry pulled back, allowing more space between him and Louis to breath. The closeness would’ve usually set every nerve in his body on fire, but the information he was trying to deal with took over that need for the moment, always putting Louis’ well being before anything else. 

“Well, you can be sure I’ll tell him to be on his best behaviour.”

Harry coughed, reached behind to retrieve a glass Louis hadn’t spotted before now and downing the contents before slamming it back atop the bar, causing Louis to jump. 

Harry hissed at the burn and Louis wondered how he hadn’t choked from it. 

“Was that whiskey? Do you- you drink whiskey?”

Harry nodded, a short laugh escaping at Louis’ disbelief. He smiled kindly at the lady behind the bar when she took his glass for a refill. 

“Nectar of the Gods, Louis.” 

 

*

 

“Ryan!” Louis had drunk far too much, yes. If anything proved that it was his looseness when it came to this certain someone who was previously on his hit list. He was wearing a grey singlet that didn’t belong to him and gaped a little from the size along with his now soaking wet baby blue shorts.

“Louis.” 

What further proved Louis level of intoxication was the fact he didn’t pick up on the tone of his name as it was spoken, the weighted intention behind those eyes as they roamed freely over his body.

“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?”

It had struck midnight twenty minutes ago and everyone had counted down to the second. A roar of cheers, a collective ‘Happy Birthday’ was lifted to the humid night air along with over a hundred glasses still flowing with liquid to toast Louis, who was slap bang in the middle of it all and was promptly thrown into the pool by Liam shortly after.

“You’re officially an adult now,” Ryan’s ill intended hands roamed south, taking _full_ advantage of what was there to offer, “you can do whatever you want now kiddo.”

Ryan’s eyes dipped along with his head, into the crook of Louis collar bones, wet lips planting a sloppy kiss there that was only just registered by the giggling recipient pulling away slightly to try and look him in the eye.

“Well pardon you…” Louis wanted to be taken seriously, regardless of the fact he couldn’t stop chuckling, “we’ve only just met, I don’t even know you.”

Ryan agreed with a small nod, catching the eye of Ben over the top of Louis’ head and gave a nod to him too. The plan was set, he just needed to get him inside.

“What do you want to know?”

Louis scrunched his nose, stepping on his partner’s feet a couple of times as they’d somehow in the past few seconds taken to slow dancing together. 

“Please, I don’t-” A hiccup interrupted briefly, “-fancy you Ry.”

Ryan gasped and pretended to look hurt, “Well I am _shocked._ ”

“You don’t even go to my school.”

“Is that a requirement?”

Louis seemed to genuinely think on this, swaying side to side with Ryan’s hands there to hold him just so.

“I suppose not…”

“I’m from Abbey,” Louis just about managed to grab two hypothetical pieces and fit them together as he spoke, instantly able to recognise the name, “Ben and I go way back, he knew you would be less than pleased with my presence but insisted I come, said it would be worth it.”

Louis raised his eyebrows, readjusted his fingers threaded through the others. 

“And? Is it?”

“I’m about to find out.”

Abbey - or rather, ‘Abbey Upper’ - was the public school a few minutes walk from campus and was the exact school Louis tries to hold no associates with. Known for it’s very notorious kick out of nobodies and underachievers Louis shudders at the thought of calling anyone who attends such an establishment a friend never mind _more_. 

Louis pushed aside his reply for a second, remembering why the school left a substantially more bitter taste in his mouth than usual, “You know I got threats from your lot, saying they’d crash the party or whatever.”

Ryan wasn’t used to Louis’ highbrow tendencies and he didn’t find himself being fond of them. It only made him want to hurt him more.

“Well, Lou Lou there are a few of us here tonight I hate to break it to you,” He kissed the back of Louis’ hand and peered up through his lashes, “anyway come on, I’ve got a present for you.”

“Okay… hey do you know Edward?”

Ryan wasn’t listening, just hummed to act like he were. Tried to get Louis to walk with him now, guiding him gently through the thrum of bodies.

“Well?”

“Sorry babe, what you say?” Ryan helped him side step the broken glass next to the steps.

“D-do you now Edward?”

“Edward who?” 

Louis dodged a few more discarded cups and empty cigarette packets, definitely way too drunk to care about any sort of mess. 

“Styles.” He tipped the last of his Hennessy back, eyes watching the liquid as it ebbed it’s way past his numb lips and let the empty cup hang loose between his fingers.

Ryan did know Edward Styles. Knew him very well. Everyone knew Styles no matter what grade or scene you chose to associate with. He was one of the few who had the academic ability to attend an institute like Louis’ but for some reason chose not to and no one understood why, especially when his Brother attended.

“No.”

Louis had forgotten the question. Or wasn’t too bothered about it in the first place and either way the man leading him into the building wasn’t either, tightening his grip around Louis as if he knew he were at risk of losing him to onlookers.

His cruel hold on the dainty appendages only eased up when they were ascending the curved stairs to the first floor, eyes intent on finding that little contraption below a handle that was needed for this plan to work. 

Once he found one, Louis was practically swung through the doorway, all patience and amiable pretence completely unnecessary now. 

“The party is outside, it’s so _empty_ in here," He huffed playfully, hands falling to his side on a small pout, "why have you brought me here Mr?”

“Mr.” Ryan hummed, flicked the light to his right, “I like that, you can call me that.”

Louis cocked an eyebrow, twirling around on his heels registering the suggestive comment at the same time he heard and saw the click of the lock.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” 

 

*

 

A distinctive whistle tore through the air and pierced straight through Harry’s skull. Like a loyal dog to it’s owner, he’d know that call anywhere. Pausing mid air with the ball firmly in both hands, he looked to the voice and squinting a bit at the distant figure looking straight back at him, he got all the confirmation he needed.

He threw the inflatable to the guy next to him with no more than a half assed ‘sorry’ and swam towards the edge of the pool, leaving behind a chorus of boo’s and cusses.

“It’s Louis. Ryan’s got him.”

He was up and out of the water in one swift motion, frowning at his twin for a moment who was already walking away.

Harry retrieved his white shirt that had been guarded this entire time and was now being given to him by the group of giggling girls sat in a semi circle around a couple of loungers. He didn’t give them a second glance as he jogged up to his Brother.

“Got?”

Edward led the way, he too wearing a black t-shirt upon his back and easily wove through the crowds that were made up of half naked bodies, not a sober bone among them.

“He took him inside.”

“Ryan as in the one who took the cash?”

“That’s the cunt.”

Harry held back a strangled sound as his jaw set at the newly acquired information. Ryan Tockwell was a name he’d heard too many times amongst the wrong crowds. Having already had a run in with him earlier on in the evening when he tried to smuggle the cash from Louis' living room, he thought the curt threat would be enough to deter him but apparently not. Harry shook his head, already thinking of what he was going to do to him. This kid either had nerves of steel or the brain capacity of it. And if of all people _Edward_ held a low opinion of him, then the rest of humanity most definitely should give him a wide birth.

Edward caught the blaze in his twin’s demeanour, his usually over cautious public self had been replaced by the neurosis that made his insides twist with panic.

“You’ve been drinking.”

Harry shoved past a pair of shoulders as he tore towards the house,“Are you surprised brother?”

Muffled, drunken slurs were thrown at him from the act, all of which Edward ignored and Harry hadn’t even noticed. His only focal point being the entrance to that house.

“Try disappointed.”

Harry scoffed, ran a hand through his hair and jogged up the steps up to the patio two at a time, “You cut me deep.”

“Harry,” Edward was right there with him, the power in his legs, the pace of his strides a set match to the other, “shit, _Harry_.” 

His temper, or rather, his ability to control it wasn’t however and he jerked Harry’s arm, fingers digging in deep either side of his bicep as it took a valiant effort to stop him from steaming further ahead, already halfway through the conservatory.

“ _What?_ ” Harry spat as he stumbled back.

Untamed eyes were everywhere. Darting to the hand on his bicep to the owner and back again, looking at the doorway in desperation, _frustration_ due to the fact he wasn’t through it already. 

“Look at me.” 

“We don’t have time to-”

“- _Look at me!_ ” Edward’s raised voice was strike one. Harry knew better than to push.

Sighing, he rolled his head slow on its point until he’d met the demand. He said nothing, just stared with the ominous semblance that told Edward everything he needed to know; everything he already knew.

“You know what alcohol does to you and you know you shouldn’t take it with your medication you fucking idiot.” 

Edward was a perfect match for him, physically he could give him as good as he got, if not worse catching him on a bad day. But when it came to matters of the psychological, his mind branched off into places Edward couldn’t fathom; dark spaces haunted by paranoia and obsession and compulsion that drove him to the brink of sanity.

The smirk that surfaced was a tiny insight to that bleak area of his mind, nothing about any of this being amusing whatsoever.

“The pills have taken a minor hiatus Brother,” He smiled fully, laughed something short and false and then yanked his arm out of Edward’s now loosened hold.

Edward thought he’d feared the worst but he’d been wrong. So, so wrong.

 _This_ was worse. 

“Harry.”

Harry stepped back once, before shaking his head and turning around altogether to take off into the dimly lit kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the pretty comments you have left, it's a pleasure to see you're enjoying reading it just as much as I am writing it. This one is a little slow however, what with deciding to extend it I had to steady the pace of the plot.
> 
>  
> 
> **TW: This chapter contains references to attempted rape, nothing explicit but it's still there so please heed the warning.**

He’d had been riddled all night long as to why he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, why Edward, the boy who is known for drinking anybody under the table who dared to step to the challenge, had refused every beverage offered his way. Along with the rest of unanswered questions from his fellow students and friends, this was just another line of the never ending almost paradoxical riddle that was Edward Styles. Why didn’t he attend the same school as his twin Brother when he has equal ability? Why does Edward insist he always goes to their house when someone suggests doing something? Why does he never talk about said twin Brother at all in conversation? Why does he insist on staying sober at the pool party he initiated the crashing of?

All queries could’ve been answered in the following few minutes. All suspicions, theories and questions would’ve been wiped out if only these people had been right there with the two boys now, as they hurtled up the stairs, the marble beneath their bare feet as cold as their intentions. If they could only see, what Edward was about to, they would understand and maybe keep their mouths _shut_.

The duo had just barged in on the wrong couple mangled in a less than dignified position in what was presumably a guest bedroom, Edward shouting _‘get a room’_ whilst Harry grunted and went about tearing open another door.

Edward pulled the door shut and looked to his crazed Brother.

“If there’s anything you’ll listen to it’s this-” Edward found the strength to shove past his other half to get in front of him on the first floor corridor, stopping him with a fist braced against his abdominals, “no apologies.”

The phrase had been used in many situations before. A code they’d birthed after Harry’s first brutality aged 11. ‘No apologies’ is specific enough to not be confused with anything else but doesn’t identify the details so anyone who were to stumble upon their conversations be it on purpose or by pure accident, wouldn’t be unable to identify what they were talking about.

But right now Harry understood. Wanted to break the rules more than ever as of present, but begrudgingly knowing Edward was logically sound.

He glowered for a second, before looking to the floor with a bowed head and raising both hands in defeat at the same time. His chest was rising and falling against Edward’s knuckles, his warm breath coming fast and hard over his wrist.

Edward knew better than to hold him there for longer than necessary and so resigned this as the most acknowledgement he’s going to get and removed his hand, regarding his Brother with well practised caution.

“Right.” Edward nodded, stepping back.

He waited for the other to resume his movement but after a few stoic moments passed he frowned at the frozen state of the boy before him, eyes fixed on what seemed to be Edward’s jugular.

Any kind of mood swing or acute change in behaviour or demeanour meant Edward was on red alert and so he probed into the slowly fizzing mind of his twin’s, flicking up and down his body once with wary eyes, “Uh, Har-“

“ _Sh_!”

Harry cut him off immediately, holding out a steady hand with fingers spanning wide. He angled his head to the side a little from Edward’s brief interruption but his eyes stayed planted on that spot on his neck.

He was listening to something. That was clear now and Edward let go of the breath he’d held in anticipation for something much more sinister.

Following the tilt of Harry’s head, he joined him in trying to decipher whatever it was he’d heard but before he had chance to turn his head there came an unmistakable scream from the far left hall, possibly two or three doors down.

Edward mumbled a curse as Harry was already charging towards the noise, a fury in his gut.

Violent noises, low sounds that shouldn’t be dispensed by human vocal chords filtered out as Harry through clenched teeth, hunched over the door handle, fast fingers fiddling with the lock.

“Harry move over, _move_.”

The nature of the act required sobered precision, regardless of the fact they both were equally equipped with enough muscle mass and motivation to get to what was behind that door, Edward would get them there faster with his aim and after a brief bounce on the spot to ready himself for the - quite frankly _extreme_ they’re only human after all - pain that would come with his next move he dove his foot directly onto the weakened area of the wood.

Each kick was delivered with more anger, more determination. The pain from his bones being nearly shattered from the solid wood vs human battle was a harrowing one, but soon the wood splintered and Edward’s guttural growl got his final blow pulverising the obstruction.

The door swung open, lock being ripped from its root and the door cracked from the middle out.

“ _What the fuck_?”

Ryan spoke first, spluttering words with a hazy vexation as he pulled up from a much smaller body beneath him to look at the two clearly troubled brawn that had barged through.

Edward’s eyes narrowed on that exact figure pinned on the bed, having to clench his fists as he registered the red marking around the smaller of the pairs’ bared throat. The pain in his shin was nothing but a distant memory with the anger replenishing in his stomach when he saw he was _crying_.

“Fuckin’ hell lads,” Ryan’s obnoxious slur was even more infuriating teamed with the blushed red appearance of his face, already pulling up from Louis, “thought you’d get the hint and give up but fuck me- can’t you see this room is occupied?”

Ryan felt the need to reinforce his statement by gripping Louis’ left thigh a little obscenely, kneading the muscle laid there with a pointed look towards the boy.

A vacant cracking sound sounded southwards and Harry whipped his head down to peer at Edward’s knuckles. He looked up at his face, waiting for something, the soles of his feet buzzing from the energy of staying still for too long already, the last fragile latch of clear thought keeping him put until his elder gave him-

-Edward’s tiny inclination of his head was missed by two out of the three.

Harry surged forward, not looking at the body underneath his target as he were afraid he’d either loose it altogether or snatch him up and walk away with him, leaving behind the monster on top unmarked.

“Hey man ease up _what th-_ ”

Louis’ eyes were screwed shut the entire time, not moving his head to peer at the intrusion even with the violence of it. He’d thought it was merely a pair of drunks that once they’d realised who and what they’d barged in on, would leave at Ryan’s defensive display. Gentle sobs wracking his chest as his body was frozen to the mattress, cheek pressed into the cotton and biting his lips to stop himself from calling out post heeding his captives’ threat if he tried to escape.

Ryan’s words were still whispering along the length of Louis’ spine, wrapping around his nervous system, keeping him still and compliant.

His body forced into submission from hands much more capable than his own.

He wasn’t going to escape. Ryan had told him. Had guaranteed his pain if he tried such a thing. And he was right. He’d drunk far too much and deserved it. He was the host, he wasn’t supposed to be like this. What did he expect anyway? From wearing _tiny little shorts_ and baring so much skin around people he _knew_ wanted him, moulding himself to his body like that? He was asking for it, he’d been asking for it all night.

Blue eyes shot open once the weight above him was removed and the disgusting voice that had been the background music to his imminent abuse shouted out in shock.

Louis pushed himself up on his elbows, blinking away the tears, a flush on his cheeks as he tried to focus on the two bodies merging before him.

He could’ve coughed up his heart when he saw the face of the intruder, the dishevelled thick mop of hair and immediately- but wait, those arms were bare; the skin was clear of ink.

_Harry._

Why was Harry here? Why was he pulling Ryan away, how did he know where he was and that he needed help and _why_ has he thrown Ryan to the floor like that-

-Louis wanted to scream. Shout or move or something, the itch on the inside of his cheeks, the constriction of his chest willing him to act but to his dismay, the only sound he was going to produce would be a broken sob, grappling the large hands that had just appeared around his middle. Arms now, snaking their way around his narrow waist, strong and solid forearms that were just as unyielding as Ryan’s and Louis panicked.

“N-no _please don-_ ,”

There was a familiar husk at his ear, cooing his efforts to resist, reassuring him he’s alright, it’s okay you’re safe.

“Come now sweet pea, you’re alright.”

That voice matched the boy before him, the one now piling into Ryan from above, straddling him. Harry’s fist collided with the man’s face each time with a sickening crunch.

If Harry was there then that meant…

Louis was being slowly dragged; long fingers and wide palms breaching his body but with decent motive, straight off the bed. Hands that he’d escaped earlier were his sanctuary now.

“M’not going to hurt you Louis, come on.”

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t comprehend what was happening due to the toxicity in his system and the muffled sounds of bones cracking and blood gargling and his feet ghosting the ground. He was being _lifted_ , much too fast and he felt just as helpless as before but that voice, that voice still wasn’t a safe place for him, he didn’t trust anyone in that room.

His limbs were arranged expertly to mimic that of a baby koala; his legs wrapped comfortably around Edward’s middle and his arms instinctually coming to hold atop his shoulders, their span serving as a comfortable resting place.

Edward was surrounded by warm limbs and fluffy hair and spluttered a little at the wispy strands getting caught in his mouth.

A choked cry got Louis looking over his shoulder though, a wet noise that had sounded through a desperate sob. Vision blurring at the sides but coming to a focused centre allowing him to see Harry stood tall over Ryan’s body, convulsing and broken on the floor, his foot over his now blood stained throat.

“Harry.”

Edward’s voice was there in his ear.

One word, possibly an advisory counsel that was served to make Harry reconsider. Either way it was a pressing sound and it got the recipient looking up immediately, foot still balancing on the battered oesophagus of his victim.

Louis thought it wouldn’t be the attempted act of sexual misconduct that would stay with him from tonight, but that look instead, green eyes that were momentarily void of any conscience, a boy possessed - he won't forget that until his dying day.

Harry saw where Louis was, how _safe_ he was and how he as looking straight back at him with a look of disbelief. There was such an innocence in it, such genuine concern that patches of the storm cleared from his mind; those baby blue peepers able to melt away even the most scorched homicidal appetite.

Hearing the onslaught of his Brother’s attack pause at his warning call, Edward felt satisfied to move towards the doorway, feeling Louis’ delicate fingers readjust on his skin as he did so, sharing the subsiding sobs spasming through his lean torso as it pressed so firmly into his own.

Edward closed his eyes as he heard something _crunch_ on a slight stamp. Something colliding with something it shouldn’t have. Something Edward thought he'd just halted. Something he knew Louis had just caught the tail end of before he could whip him out of sight altogether as the boy jumped in his hold.

“ _Oh my-_ ”

“Shh, shhhh,” Edward tightened the arm he’d secured underneath Louis, quickening his pace down the hallway now, while the other was a warm pressure on the back of his head, fingers gently massaging into the soft tufts of hair, “it’s okay.”

“ _But Harry just-_ ”

“I know Louis, I know,” Edward also knew he was going to kill his Brother the second he's fully sobered in the coming hours, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

And go forth and raise your pitch forks for Edward may be a little more than sexually drawn to this boy clamping around him like it was his most ingrained instinct. Why did Harry have to care for him so much? Why did Harry have to choose this one? Why did he get there first? _Why Louis?_

He knew why Louis. It was the same reason Edward found his heart faltering at the precious whimper Louis just made, the tightening of his grip around his shoulders and the turn of his head into Edward’s neck, muffling another incoherent sentence and sniff into the juncture.

This tiny act of Louis’ willingness to entrust Edward, choosing to nuzzle closer instead of stutter away surprised him for the smallest second until he heard the door close and another pair of feet come padding up close behind them.

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Edward hated how he had to make Louis move from his little salvation in the side of his neck, but he really needed Louis to talk, “listen where’s your bedroom?”

He peered at the adorableness beside him, clenching his jaw at the laceration on his cheek where he'd been obviously slapped. He could almost sense Louis’ hesitation, picking up on his trepidation before he had the chance to object.

“Just need to take you there sweet pea, we’re going to leave you there while we get everyone else out alright? We’ll leave you alone after, but we need to get you resting.”

Shortly after Louis had guided them to his room, he gulped down on the dryness in his throat and that too was felt by Edward, who had to keep from walking straight past his room entirely and just carry the poor boy back to their place instead. Baby koala style an’ all.

He could feel the fluttering of his heart, the trembling of his arms as they entered Louis’ darkened room. It smelled just like him. Something sweet mixed with a little more earthy. And clean. Heavily akin to laundry detergent.

“Alright,” Edward had stalked over to the neatly made bed and bent forward, allowing Louis’ form to fall from him with ease, “stay here, we’ll tell everyone to fuck off.”

It was almost immediate at how quickly Louis realised what had and what is still happening, breaking his stare and shuffling backwards into his pillows to get from being underneath another body twice his size.

He nodded a little too enthusiastically.

It hadn’t gone a miss how Louis had failed to speak but three words since they’d recovered him and Louis _despised_ it.

Edward straightened up, hating how he hadn’t realised looming over Louis like that would only make him thrice as nervous; given he was already visibly shaken to the core. So he pulled upright and cleared his throat, catching Louis’ peculiar line of vision which angled straight past himself and to the boy hovering by the door.

Harry had hung back and was lingering in the doorway, fingers pulling at his lower lip. His previous enrapture with the looser side of his mind had lifted at the state of Louis.

Louis, the boy he’d fought so hard to protect over these years and was looking at him now clearer than he’d ever looked at him before. Harry had fantasised about this moment; the day were Louis would look at him with any _real_ rooted emotion, some kind of recognition towards him but he definitely didn’t want it to be like this. He didn’t want that emotion to be fear.

Edward sighed and turned back to the boy who had tried to pull up the covers in an attempt to shield half his quivering body, feeling the overwhelming burn from two pairs of identical eyes on him, hating how he was laid bare before them in every sense but the literal.

But what he didn’t know, was that those eyes weren’t hostile. Those eyes were simply surveying the darkening marks on his neck, around his wrists and trying against their darkest will to not go back down the hallway and finish off the job.

“Let’s go.”

Edward’s order was short, afraid that if he stayed a minute longer he may confess something ridiculous like his undying love for a boy he’d met a week ago.

Edward didn’t love. He’d never been in love and definitely never will be; saw it to be nothing but a soppy illusion that people delude themselves with in order to feel a false sense of ratification with their pathetic lives.

He gave a shit. He gave a shit about what happened to this boy and that was as much as he was going to admit, walking out the room with not a single look back at the small boy clutching at the bed sheets that may as well be Edward’s _fucking_ heart strings.

He had to drag Harry by the scruff of his t-shirt to get him moving with him.

After giving the unidentified couple they’d walked in on earlier a firm word or four, not bothering about being sensitive over any of it, he joined his Brother who was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Edward sighed as he saw the glazed expression in Harry’s eyes, paying no mind to the flushed couple tiptoeing their way past him and down the stairs, instead just staring back at Louis’ closed door chewing at his lip.

Edward sighed. Felt like he’d spent more time pushing the air out of his lungs than taking it in tonight.

“Oi you little shit.”

Edward held no anger towards him. Seeing the look of longing in his eyes was kind of heart wrenching, as he stared at the door as if hoping it would morph into the pair of liquid blue eyes he knew he would give up his entire world for. Knew that really, those two eyes kind of were already his world.

Harry snapped out of his trance a little, blinking slowly as he brought his attention back to Edward, “Hm?”

“You may have just ruined any chance of that boy speaking to you ever again you know that?”

Nothing short of ten minutes ago, Harry would’ve bit back at that comment, be all but frothing at the mouth with the insinuation of never be able to communicate with Louis again. With whatever low or bereft opinion he already held of him.

“I know.”

Something twisted inside of Harry. A frustrated knot inside his stomach made up of good intentions, unspoken words and prohibited affection.

“And, where do you think you’re going?”

Harry paused on the third step down, a frown twitching to life.

“To get people to leave…”

Edward laughed, ran a tongue over the front of his teeth and quirked an eyebrow at his deranged in more than one way twin, “You really think they’re going to listen to you?”

As if he’d just been played a five second clip compressing the last six years of his life, he snapped his jaw shut and nodded.

“Oh right, yeah.”

“Yeah, best leave that to me,” Edward clapped a hand to Harry’s shoulder, coming down to the same step he were on so they were eye level and leant forward, “I think you should deal with the little mess you left in the guest room, don’t want Mummy and Daddy Tomlinson coming home to an attempted murder scene.”

And Harry really had left the part of his brain that comprehended any logical, rational or sensible thought back in Louis’ bedroom as his frown deepened at Edward, the smallest of pouts gracing his full lips as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Edward stared.

Squinted a touch, testing to see if his Brother were jesting him.

Then stared a little longer, waited just incase.

“Ryan?”

The penny dropped and Harry’s eyes widened, “ _Oh shit._ ”

And he were off, Edward shaking his head on a fond smile as he watched him scramble with those long legs back down the hallway, the rumbling of his weight echoing through the floorboards on a fast jog.

 

*

 

Louis woke the next day to a rather inconvenient ache in his head. He had a lot to do today, clean the pool, clean the house, open presents, see his relatives... a pain that transcended tenfold upon peering at the time on his bedside clock which read _14:25_.

He all but leapt out of his bed, hair stuck up at odd angles, one eye still shut, scrambling for a pair of clean underpants and nearly falling over literally nothing in his haste. He snatched the first t-shirt he saw - it was white and plain and uncomplicated and _fine_ \- pulling it over his head after whipping off the grey tank he was already wearing. Wiggled himself into a fresh pair of underwear, all flailing arms and legs and hopped into his bathroom.

“ _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit-_ wait,"

Louis let the water from the tap run over his cupped hands and stared at himself in the mirror as the memory hit him, hypothetically slapping him into sense more than what any ice cold water could.

He’d forgotten that his Dad had told him they were staying later and wouldn’t be home until the late evening instead mid afternoon. 

“Idiot.” 

He shook his head, bracing two hands on the basin and letting his head hang down a little.

Closing the water off he allowed himself to relax and take up his normal morning routine, stepping into the shower and opening up warm water in there instead. As he peeled off his top, scoffing as it was actually inside out, the memory of last night rolled in just as bluntly as his previous recollection. But wasn’t as pleasant.

Letting the warm water run over his body he traced his fingers over the marks on his neck, lingering over the ones on his arms; their cruel ache a cutting reminder of what he’d closely avoided last night.

 _Avoided_ wasn’t right. Saved, was entirely more accurate.

The Styles were there, he knows that for sure. He remembers Edward talking in his ear, placing him on his bed but beyond that his post alcohol brain was fuddled.

Mind flooded with the happenings of the evening before he steps out of the shower smelling of coconuts and peaches which brings back a memory from earlier on in the evening, groaning as now he can’t ever enjoy the scent of coconut in the same way. He desperately tried to piece together the other bits that were missing. Goes about making a film reel of everything that happened since midnight, since his birthday rolled in.

He plodded around his room, barefooted on the soft carpet, pulling on fresh items of clothing and mouthing soundless words to himself, muttering his memories mutely as they came to him.

He’d just pulled on a pair of fresh navy sweatpants, wiggling his bum a little as he pulled the toggle tight around his infuriatingly slender hips when he caught something he’d missed in his senseless rush.

A folded piece of paper with _‘Lou’_ scribbled on the front, an oversized cursive.

Louis unfolded it and after reading the short handwritten message, that final missing piece was slotted firmly into place and something twanged in his chest.

_‘The pool and surrounding areas have been cleaned, hope it’s to your standards. H. x p.s: Please accept my apologies.’_


	5. Chapter 5

Liam was there. He’d been there all night ever since Edward had gone about kicking everyone out of the house, apparently in a less than graceful manner. 

_“Alright pack up you fucking goons… everyone out… Louis’ orders… party’s over.”_

Percy had stayed too, both boys having managed to convince Edward they were his best friends and therefore wanted to wait until morning to see him. But Louis lost all hope of seeing him any time soon as after Liam described the turmoil he’d been through of helping him to and from the toilet all night throwing several stomach’s worth of vomit up it was clear they probably wouldn’t be hearing a peep out of him until at least early evening. 

Louis listened to him explain everything what had happened, in the exact order it happened and exactly _how_ it happened - Liam adopting his best Edward voice when reiterating his parts. Hopping atop one of the bar stools in the kitchen and pulling his knees up for his chin to rest on, Louis watched Liam’s busy hands laying some fresh bacon - ‘birthday bacon’ as he’d christened it - in the frying pan. Apparently Edward announced Louis had passed out in his bedroom and was a little worse for wear and that’s why he wanted everyone gone, narrowly avoiding getting in a few fights with people who didn’t want to leave so early, said as soon as these people realised who it was they’d be fighting though, as if by magic, they sobered up enough to walk away.

Then, as the plate of eggs and bacon arranged in a phallic manner was plonked before him, it was Louis’ turn to explain what had really happened. 

And he’d just about finished the part where Ryan had hit him after he denied him a kiss that Liam dropped his fork on a clatter which made Louis jump and the next thing he knew he had a boy wrapped around himself, smelling of excess deodorant and hair gel, muttering how he _knew that Ryan was a fucking bastard all along, never trusted those boys anyway._

 

He’d stopped explaining himself about fifteen minutes later. Breakfast come lunch was polished off easily and Louis announced his desire to lay down - and yes Liam he _knows_ he’s been laid down for around eleven hours already but he’s exhausted and it is his birthday so they shall do as he pleases. Plus he had to wait for his parents to arrive home along with his other family and extended family on top of that, then probably some other friends of the family and maybe even the family of the housekeeper they had in whatever hotel they’d stayed in this time around. His parents made friends far too easily and Louis was expected to do the same. 

So they were here now, in Louis’ bedroom, watching the minutes tick by. Liam had been pacing, as he does, for three and a half minutes and Louis was getting a little tired of following him with his head. So he resigns to a star-fished position on the bed, staring at the ceiling as Liam rabbits on with his one man conversation.

“Please accept my apologies… _please accept my apologies_.” 

“…But what is he apologising for? He did nothing wrong?” 

Louis bit his lip, still not offering any response to his ramblings. He’d failed to mention the fact Harry had dove his fist into Ryan’s face more than a couple of times, enough to break a few bones, perhaps enough to even cause permanent damage. 

“I mean it’s not like he did anything wrong, they got you out of there, Harry hit him-”

He also skipped over the part that involved the foot that crushed his oesophagus. 

“-and they got you out of there, out of the situation. They did the right thing so I don’t know what he could mean by that…”

“… weird.”

“I mean it’s all very bizarre anyway? You know? But then again I did tell you didn’t I? Yeah I told you about my theory of him having a crush on you, poor boy probably had eyes on you all night.”

Louis’ fingers were drumming a steady rhythm on his torso where they rest.

“What I’m most confused about is Edward, maybe Harry thought the man power of two were better than one?”

“…But how did they know where you were? Yeah. Yeah that’s a clincher.”

And yeah, Louis would admit to mulling that same thing over in his head several times already.

“Saying all of this, when I spoke to Harry about your ex he seemed a little, I don’t know, a little uncomfortable? Like he went all quiet but didn’t stop staring at me an-”

That got Louis all but cartwheeling back into the room.

“Back up,” He braced a hand mid air, snapping his head to the side wanting to look demanding but appearing much more _cute_ with his hair in a disarray on the pillow, “what did you just say?”

Liam stuck his bottom lip out, slowly raising his eyebrows at his friend who looked just about ready to pounce, “Something I clearly shouldn’t have?” 

A few seconds passed where Liam politely waited for Louis to sit up properly, grunting and cursing as he tried to unwind himself from the covers that had somehow tangled around the lower half of his body and upright on the edge of the mattress, running his socked toes in a semi circle on the carpet before he looked up at the boy who still looked more charming than alarming in his red Wonder Woman t-shirt and navy sweatpants.

Liam wouldn’t ask. Knows better than to _ever_.

“You spoke about my _personal_ life to him? Tell me what possessed you to do such a thing? You know how weird that boy is, I told you how much I didn’t want him here and yet you _still_ go ahead and get pally pal with him over scotch and conversations about my sex life.”

“Okay steady on mate it was barely a sex life you’re a sodding virgin. Also let’s put things in perspective here,” Liam took a long breath and nodded, “I was very drunk.”

Louis waited with an open palm, a habit of talking with loose wrists and elastic expressions he waited for him to continue but nothing.

“And?” He pushed, straining said palm.

“ _And_ … I was very drunk.”

Louis opened his mouth but clamped it shut when Liam continued, “Oh come on you know how friendly and lax I get when it comes to boundaries after I’ve had a few. Mate I happily gave over my card details to someone so they could buy a ticket to LA and told them to _go chase that dream._ ” 

Louis pursed his lips to stop the snort of laughter. He was obviously _mortified_ but his friend was such a moronic soft touch he really couldn’t stay mad at him for long, no matter how hard he tried Liam always had such a genuine unawareness to him it’s endearing. And maybe a little worrying. One of these days he’s expecting to receive a phone call from an airport somewhere off the coast of Taiwan with Liam explaining to him how he just wanted to walk the old foreign lady home and the next thing he knew he was boarding a flight with a one way ticket to China.

“Okay, but what motivated a conversation about my love life?”

“I think we were talking about the banana inflatable.”

“Oh right yeah, so naturally that’s how it progressed.” Louis rolled his eyes and stood up, the sigh entirely over dramatic but Liam had done this, he was forcing him to be excessive, he was responsible for 84% of his intolerance.

“ _We were talking about the banana inflatable and_ …” Liam made a point of scowling at Louis as he sauntered past him towards the door, “I got rambling about my Dad who thinks they’re inappropriate objects, thinks they’re too akin to penises, would never touch one.”

Louis paused.

“So then I got rambling about penises-”

“-I’m honestly surprised he even stuck around at this point.”

Liam walked over to him and shoved him to keep moving forward, “…so I was talking about penises then I said that I wonder if you as in you, Louis, would get any birthday kisses.”

“You said _what_?”

“So, the penis comment you’re not appalled by but the kissing comment you are.”

“It’s more about the transition you made between the two.”

“Well of course I went onto saying you’re a virgin then, about how you nearly lost it to Ashton last year but with what happened and that you didn’t end up going that far so.”

Louis had just left his mouth open now, too contorted by shock to bother checking himself at all and just to baffled to _look away_ from his despicable companion who is missing any shred any mere morsel of a filter. The shrug of Liam’s shoulders as if this was really not a big deal that he’d just divulged Louis’ sexual history or lack of, to someone who Louis had barely only just learnt didn’t actually need glasses all the time, was the cherry on top. 

“I haven’t even barely begun to peel back the first layer of this boy and here you are serving up my entire life story.”

"Look, he didn't seem to care much, just got a little shy I guess." Liam shadowed Louis down the stairs now they were moving again, "Just went a little zoned out for a second and completely changed the subject when I told him how upset you were over your break up."

Louis was getting second hand embarrassment and he didn't know if it was on behalf of Liam or Harry. Either way, he didn't want to hear the rest of it. 

"Okay, alright." He bounced down the last few steps and flicked his fringe out of his eyes, taming it with his fingertips, "well rule number one of any further house parties I host, you're limited to one drink per hour."

"Yes mum." Liam giggled, pinching Louis side as he took stride next to him, "What are we doing?"

"I need some painkillers."

 

*

 

Monday arrives faster than a buttered bullet and for Louis it’s bittersweet. 

School’s out in two weeks, which is excellent but although final exams are done for a few lucky students they are still ongoing for the majority - Louis being a part of that. The plus side is that all classes are cancelled and by requirement students must utilise the slots to study for said exams; as long as you were sat in a classroom with a book and at least looked as if you were doing something then, well, no teacher would bark up a fuss. The school may be up there in the top five when it came to results and push it’s students to keep this standard, but at this time of year the staff were all too aware of the extreme rise in stress levels and so didn’t bother forcing students into any sort of ordered manner when it came to their revision. 

Therefore thus far Louis’ Monday had consisted of an easy French oral exam, half a buttered English muffin, twenty three yawns and not much else. Literally.

Liam, Percy and Jake have been in exams for the entire morning so he’d been left to fend for himself and make idle chit chat with others who he didn’t really possess enough energy to talk to. Especially not what they wanted to talk _about_. 

Yes he really did pass out on Saturday, no he can’t remember much and no he absolutely was not _that_ drunk.

He’s a Yorkshire man and if there’s two things he can handle it’s tea and liquor thank you very much. 

So _yes_ he probably was spiked. 

And _yes_ the culprit was more than likely one of those flea-bitten students from Abbey Upper.

But now he was on his third revision session of the day and was yet again, alone. 

Winding his hand out the end of his sweater that he wore, something that was a little too big for his nimble frame he gripped the bronze handle of the door and pushed forward on a dejected sigh, already prepping himself to have the same conversation with a bunch of fresh new faces.

He was pleasantly surprised however when a) the professor he was expecting to be there wasn’t and was replaced by Mrs Bundin, the head of Psychology, a jolly, plump, middle aged lady with those glasses that hung round her neck on a delicate chain and b) he recognised next to zero faces of the people who turned to look at the latest attendee. 

“Oh, good afternoon Louis,” The professor’s cheeks were entirely too round, Louis thought, “do take a seat.” 

Louis liked her. She smelled of talcum powder and freshly baked bread. And her dimples held a permanent trace of a long gone youth.

“Hello Mrs Bundin.” Louis nodded with a genuine smile, hitching his belongings up onto his chest so he could wrap his arms around them, trying to focus on finding a seat rather than let his mind run with his experience of dimples. 

Ironically Mrs Bundin has always been particularly friendly with the Styles family. On the rare occasion the older sister Gemma comes to town, she’ll be seen on campus with Harry or those two times their Mother and Father, Des and Anne had showed up for some sort of parent teacher conference. Much like one of their Sons, they were elusive. Quiet and kept entirely to themselves. But Mrs Bundin was always with them and always, _always_ talking to Harry around campus. 

He nodded to Cara as he strolled down the centre aisle, who had waved at him from afar and winked when he threw her a small wave back. As far as he could see she was the only person he knew in the entire room and that was quite a new feeling for him. Usually, he’d be the centre of attention in any room no matter what; people would usually be offering up the spare seats next to them for Louis to take by now with eager nods and wide smiles, all wanting to be sat next to Louis Tomlinson. 

And for the first time, he felt terribly shy. 

He could just sit over there, next to the boy who has a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, staring angrily at the book before him, knee bouncing under the table looking like he were due to pass out in his next _ferocious_ page turn.

Nope. Louis need calm.

So, tightening his fingers around the single folder and textbook he had in his hands, flat against his naval now, he walked down the first aisle and slowed his pace the further he got to the back. There was a small table two from the end row that had a free space next to some Asian boy, someone who again, Louis didn’t know by name.

The space was against the wall, nearly in a corner. Louis hated that. Had a weird thing about being trapped and always took care when choosing his seating; if he had a clear escape route he was good. 

Realising he’d stopped walking mid way across a row of desks, attracting a curious look here or there he snapped out of his stupid daze and pushed forward. 

Politely excusing himself he asked if he could take up the seat and when accepted, settled down with a quiet cough and plonked his folder before him, ready to immerse himself in the world of Lee’s famous ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird’. 

Four or five minutes later the door swung open and there was a grumble of a greeting in reply to Mrs Bundin’s bubbling welcome, but Louis didn’t care enough to look up. One hand holding his head up whilst the other tapped away a distracted rhythm on the edge of the desk. 

He did care though, when the clicking footsteps not only got louder but progressively slower and eventually stopped and the chair that was occupied besides him was suddenly vacant.

Louis stopped his tapping and his eyes shot up, staring at a patch of peeling paintwork covering the stone brick wall. He caught the tail end of the little whispered conversation that had took place too quickly, the boy standing up for the other a little too willingly.

“…thank you, thanks.”

He knew that voice.

“Wh-” Turning his head to the side, his arms fell loose on the table as he watched the boy with liberal limbs assemble elegantly into place next to him, taking extra care to pull the chair back underneath him so the legs didn’t make too much of a screech.

“Afternoon Louis.” That fucking smile. 

Louis regretted not joining sweaty boy. 

“You- you’re not in this year.” 

He practically blurted it out, the first thought he had ran along the lines of _‘what the actual fucking fuck do you think you’re doing what th-’_ so he went with second best. 

Harry, who had placed his two books neatly before him, taking time to line them up corner to corner with a frown, froze at the comment.

“Neither is Hayley,” His response was so immediate Louis’ breath short circuited and he cleared his throat. 

The smile Harry gave then looked like he’d thought about it before hand, almost as an after thought to the abrupt comment he’d just made so for all intents and purposes he tacked on a smile to soothe it. It twitched though, its laboured roots bleeding through the eyes that remained stoic. He may have spoken the girl’s name but showed no other physical acknowledgement of her, in favour of keeping those crystal green convictions planted firmly on Louis’. Something in their hold a lot more confident that there ever has been before. 

Or maybe that was because Louis was feeling particularly alone already in this classroom and it’d placed his courage at a temporary disadvantage and he was stock still next to a god damn _wall_.

“Oh,” Louis’ eyes drifted over to the girl by impulse, then back to Harry by demand, feeling like he hadn’t been granted permission to do so just yet, “right.” 

“Mrs Bundin allowed it.”

Of course she did. 

“Haven’t you finished now?” 

Harry cocked his head to the side, frowning a little, “What?”

A small group of four or five girls directly behind, Louis really couldn’t see exactly how many from Harry’s shoulders blocking them, were all hushed whispers and stolen glances at Harry. It wasn’t entirely clear as to what the context of the conversation was but it didn’t seem spiteful or hostile, their expressions curiously fond with soft giggles as they kept peeking over.

“Your um, exams, aren’t they over?”

Harry, probably out of the want of not being rude, didn’t brandish his French Literature book in front of his face and say ‘ _duh_ ’. Instead he remained quite the gentleman and shook his head after a beat - that beat being him surveying Louis’ face for a little too long again, _always_ too long - and biting his bottom lip for the briefest of moments before ducking his head.

“No just,” He tapped two long fingers on top of his glaringly obvious book, “just some Français.”

It clicked what was different. He wasn't wearing his glasses. 

There was no room left for Louis to back into but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. And by try that meant pulling a knee up into his chest, aiming to get all limbs as far away as possible from the boy.

“I had oral this morning.”

Louis’ eyes bulged a little and he wanted to implode from the heating of his cheeks. 

And Harry was clearly a gentleman through and through. He didn’t even crack a smirk at the comment, just nodded with those unwavering eyes.

“As in French, oral,” Louis - for some _bizarre_ reason - clarified, “m-my examination.”

“Yes of course,” Harry cleared his throat, eyes dipping to the oral fixation he has of his own before back up to the two baby blue’s he also has a soft spot for, “it went well, I trust?”

“Swimmingly.” 

“Good.”

Louis had both knees hugged into his chest and he was entirely aware of how odd he looked. Of how this whole thing looked actually, to anyone who was caring to glance over. The silence that took place between them was awkward, but not in the usual irritable fashion. It was more heavy than that. 

“About the other-”

“-I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing Louis,” He flicked his eyes down again to the tightening of Louis’ arms, not that he hadn’t noticed the steady recoil since the second he stopped tapping his pencil earlier, “but I don’t want this.”

“No one told you to come sit with me, there are seats over there.”

“No, I don’t want _this_ ,” Harry pointed the tip of his pen between himself and Louis, eyes making a point of looking to Louis’ almost clam like posture.

“If you would allow me, I have something for you,” Harry pushed on, mainly because he didn’t want to give Louis any chance to veer of course, “I’d very much like a chance to redeem myself.”

“Redeem yourself, Harry you…” Louis lowered his voice, eyes flitting to the front of the room where Mrs Bundin was staring right back at him over the top of her glasses as if she could hear the entire thing, “Harry you did nothing wrong.”

Harry’s fist clenched momentarily around his pen but he noticed Louis’ gaze drift over and he released it, gulping down a tonne of words he’d never speak.

“I scared you.” 

His harsh rasp was a major contrast to the soft curve of his lips, full and wet now as he licks them nervously, watching Louis’ every reaction.

“You, surprised me.” Louis replied, licking his own lips.

Harry shook his head, that tenacious determination was there again, just like it was when he thought Edward had hurt him.

“No,” Harry looked like he was searching for a way to say it, or trying to _not_ say something he so desperately wanted to, “no I scared you and for that I’m sorry. I stepped over the mark. Please, let me make it up to you.”

“Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes at the sound of his name. It sounded so lovely coming from Louis.

“ _Harry_.” 

He opened them on the repeat and shuffled to the side so he was facing Louis fully now, his long legs able to bend comfortably without knocking the table. 

“Please, allow me to do this.” 

Weighing everything up, what did he have against this boy really? Putting absolutely everything into perspective, he’d known - as loose as that term is - him for six years straight. Passed him every other day in the corridors, made fun of his hermitical behaviour, barely held a few sporadic, academically fuelled conversations with him and… and what. So he was unwillingly invited to a milestone birthday party and just happened to stumble across him in a moment of need, with his twin brother. And battered him to a point of being one strike away from death. 

So he wanted to apologise. Big deal. If it made him feel better then fine. 

“Okay, whatever, yeah.”

And really, shouldn’t Louis be offended if he had simply left it? If he hadn’t tried to broach the subject with him and explain himself in one way or another then that would be considered worse decorum. Yeah, surely that would be worse. Absolutely.

So Louis really couldn’t understand why he felt like running away and not looking back every time those eyes landed on him.

“I’ll be right back.” 

And before Louis had finished his exhale, Harry was up.

Up and stalking his way to the front of the class, leaning over to Mrs Bundin’s desk to mutter a few words before leaving through the door, pulling it close behind him slowly. 

And Louis waits. 

Registering the tiny twinge in his hips, he realised he’d been clutching his limbs into himself for around five minutes straight and so wincing at the tiny clicks his joints made, he straightened out. Raising his hands above his head as far as they could go he bent his torso to side a little, then the other, feeling relieved with the stretch, his dancer’s physique didn’t do well with being so cramped.

Three minutes had passed and his rigid backed posture had wilted into a steady slump, twiddling his pen between his fingers, making a gallant effort of trying to get back to where he’d left off before his interruption. But it was no use. All the words were doing this annoying thing of merging together and even after blinking a few times it didn’t improve.

His focus had gone to shit and again, it was because of a damn Styles.

The words were there. Right there. Just _read them_.

He sighed, for probably the eleventh time, judging from the weird look he got from the Asian boy he was supposed to be sitting next to and jogged his leg impatiently. 

A glance towards the clock above Mrs Bundin, told him it was 1:22pm, which meant eight whole minutes had passed and in retrospect that had been a long time to simply go and retrieve something that was presumably in his locker. 

Unless it was in his car…

Louis jumped at the minor shriek from his professor. Whose usually rosy complexion had drained to a worrying shade of greying white, hand covering her mouth as she rose to her feet looking at something through the large glass panel of the door.

A few other students had noticed too and when she nearly threw her chair over with the sudden speed to which she bustled towards the door, everyone in the room was looking at her, silence settling heavily all around.

“Oh my goodness, oh no, no…”

The door was swung open and there was suddenly voices piercing that silence. Deep voices, all male, from what Louis could tell.

“Sir… arrest… yes M’am I’m _sorry-_ ”

Were the only clear words before the door bounced shut.

There were a couple at the front that who had a visual vantage point and were already leaning forward to see what was happening. And it must’ve been a hell of something, because they were out of their seats in a shot without a glance at the other. 

Louis could only describe what happened next as a human domino effect.

A wave of gasps washed through the room, the more people got through the door, or rather, _pushed_ by the one behind the louder they grew, the whispers more frantic and Louis couldn’t help but follow suit. 

His height was always going to be a disadvantage. And it wasn’t even like he disliked being short, or _‘below average for males’_ as Percy always liked to point out, he quite enjoyed being petite; it had its perks. But right now with the sea of heads and bodies charging around him blocking whatever riveting scene was outside, a few extra inches wouldn’t go a miss.

“Again?” On a sigh, he could see Mrs Bundin take her glasses off her face, rubbing two aged fingers into her eye sockets, “but what were you thinking? Oh my gosh, please… no can you… can we all calm down?”

Louis were right behind her now and even though he could hear her, it was broken. She started talking about last week, something about Harry’s absence - said that his Brother got the brunt of his turn but it never went further, that it must have peaked. She was babbling, fast and desperate, something regrettable in the way she looked at the officer, pleading with him.

“Do you _have_ to do this here, in front of all the students?”

Louis was through the thickest part of the crowd, shouldering his way a little through the last part only to feel like he’d walked smack straight into an invisible wall when bared to the scene of Harry being restrained by two large and heavily armed men.

The boy, who always looked so long and broad amongst most appeared much smaller with the grown men at his side, padded and armed to a level Louis could only deem as over the top for the given situation on school grounds.

“Yes M’am, before we get a chance to investigate this further we must treat him as a danger to other students. You know this.”

_A danger to other students._

Louis wasn’t the one being spoken to, but still frowned at the absurd comment. Looking to his professor to see her reaction only for his confusion to be heightened when she seemed to accept this and nodded, looking at Harry like she was on the brink of tears. 

Louis was distraught on behalf of him. How was Harry a _danger_ to anyone?

A pair of electric green eyes shot up to meet his and for a second, he thought he'd said it out loud. But when their gaze fixed, he was taken back to Friday night were those eyes were quite different. When they were feral and bleak, their single motive to bring pain to-

No.

This can’t be.

Louis’ breath hitched and he knew he stood no chance of breaking the stare now, never mind moving. Even when the rest of the students were being ordered from the corridor; Mrs Bundin wanting to clear them away from Harry, too afraid he may get flustered with all the attention and do something detrimental. 

“Please, yes, come on now,” She may be stout, but her voice carried high enough to grab the attention of all students, her authority not lost yet, “inside now please, yes _now_. Unless you all want detentions for the remaining ten days of school then I suggest you get moving… that includes you Mr Tiffton.”

All bodies filed back through the door, half craning their necks to get a last look at a shackled Harry, the rest were several fluctuating confused conversations as to what was going on, wary expressions eyeing up the two other heavily armed officers stood outside the door. 

They all step inside, every single one, until it was only Louis. Louis, Professor Bundin and the four officers surrounding Harry.

“Louis, you too sweetie.”

Louis hadn’t stopped staring at Harry. 

And Harry, well he would never _not_ have his attention on Louis. If there were a thousand people in the room he would always find his way to Louis. 

Once the initial shock had settled, the excited whispers had been shut off behind a door and the reality of what was happening sunk in even by the _tiniest_ bit, Louis realised what was hitting him the hardest.

Harry was alarmingly calm. 

He didn’t resist and didn’t speak. Didn’t seem frightened or confused. Simply held his easy stare on Louis like he expected all of it. 

And if he were certain of nothing else, he was sure this was something that nightmares were made of for none of this felt real. Not one thing aligned.

“Mrs Bundin please, I-” Louis tore his eyes away for a second. And it turned out to be the quickest damn second of his life as the officer who had been conversing at large with Mrs Bundin gave the two men restraining Harry a signal which obviously meant to get moving because they began escorting Harry down the hall.

“-Wait where are you taking him?”

Louis couldn’t let this happen. Not if it was what he thought it was about.

“Louis, darling, they’re just doing their job.”

This was happening way too fast.

“But what has he done, what’s-”

Harry looked over his shoulder at Louis one last time before he was taken round the corner.

“I understand your confusion but please, I need you to go back into the classroom, this really isn’t our b-”

“-but all the guns… and those shackles, he’s harmless-”

Louis may have shocked himself with the extent to which he seemed to be defending a boy he barely even knew.

Mrs Bundin shushed him with waving hands that soon settled on his shoulders, pivoting him back around to face her, “I know, I know. Like I said, they’re doing their job. Now come, let’s try and refocus.”

She stood back and nodded to the final officer who had apologised and told her she should contact his Parents immediately. 

Why was that her job? Why haven’t they done that? Why was he being arrested in the middle of the school and then being left at the mercy of a teacher to break the news to his family? Why was he so accepting of this? Why was he feeling like something terrible was about to happen?

Mrs Bundin watched the officer walk away behind Louis, with a glazed expression, mind occupied in a world of its own in the following moments as she reached out automatically and held the door open for him to enter. 

“Louis,” She blinked slowly, bringing her gaze back to the boy who’s complexion now fully matched hers, “come on Louis, inside please.”

Dragging his feet forward, he ran a hand through his hair, thankful his body was still functioning and not just a pile of mush on the floor with a massive question mark where his brain should be.

That could all change though, as just before he passed by the older lady he glanced down the other end of the corridor and saw a line of black, head to toe, body art inclusive, leant against the wall, arms crossed. A set of awfully familiar eyes tearing through him, formidable and void of emotion as they pinned Louis to the spot, stopping his stride and his heart.


	6. Chapter 6

If it were a week ago, he’d have scoffed, pointed out the intruder to Mrs Bundin and rolled his eyes as she realised who he was pointing at and bustled off to ask him exactly what he thinks he’s doing in school grounds of which he isn’t a student. 

If it were a week ago, Louis would’ve wasted no time whatsoever, calling him out and feeling rather satisfied as he watched his delinquent backside being marched straight down the hall towards the nearest exit.

However, if it were a week ago, he’d be entirely less confused.

Seven whole days ago Louis would’ve chalked Edward’s sudden presence, nonchalant posture and all, down to him being here waiting for Harry. Edward being someone who holds clearly no respect towards boundaries be it personal or academic, the fact he’s stood in the middle of the hallway of a school he has no right to be at - looking like he _categorically_ does - he would be forgiven for thinking it was just Edward simply being Edward. Picking Harry up for some reason or another. Maybe even picking up some other poor soul that he’d managed to court or something. 

But of course, Harry wasn’t here right now. 

And now he knows what he knows. And the Edward that he - barely - knew a week ago isn’t the same person to the one he’s staring at now. The one who is delivering that stare right back, bolting him to the spot between Mrs Bundin and the doorway. 

“M-Mrs Bundin,” Louis’ intelligence kicked in a second later than he’d liked and he peeled his eyes away and tried to look as genuine as possible, “please may I be excused to the bathroom?”

“Louis…” She looked at him strangely; an almost accusing glare that would’ve offended him under any other situation but given the circumstances she had every right to be suspicious and in all fairness was bang on the money.

She frowned a touch as Louis’ eyes betrayed him upon pure instinct and flitted back over her shoulder once more. The stupid boy had his own gravitational pull and Louis was weak to it. 

“What is the matter?” The professor inclined her head to the left as if she were planning to follow Louis’ line of sight.

He thought on his feet. 

“Nothing,” He grabbed her shoulders lightly, but enough to turn her back to him, “please, it’s just I’ve been holding it in for about an hour now and pardon me but, I’m desperate.”

She peered down at his hands, a polite way of getting him to remove them at once. Which he did. Not feeling any kind of awkward or regret though as his emotional capacity was pretty maxed out. 

“Okay, make it quick.” 

Louis held back the sigh of relief as he moved back to allow her to head on into the room. 

He casually walked past the pane of glass until he knew he was definitely out of sight and adopted a weird scurry he’d later deny to the boy three rooms down.

“Edward,” He checked over his shoulder, then down the rest of the corridor, “what are you doing here?”

“Louis,” It’s the way he says it. Every time. Like it’s less of a greeting and more of a confirmation, like he’d been waiting for him, “how’re you, are you alright?” 

And that voice that was never anything near soft- always callous and abrasive which made Louis want to constantly clear his throat and shield it at the same time.

“I’m… fine, I’m fine,” Louis blinked too many times, shaking his head at the absurd question, “are you?”

It was a default response. 

“I wasn’t.”

Louis’ breath had only increased since he’d noticed Edward. His heart rate drumming up to a faster rhythm in his chest, through his veins, now he’s standing bare inches before him. The last time they were face to face Edward had him flush against his half naked body. 

“I’m sorry?”

Edward still leant, still looked at Louis like he was drinking everything in but hadn’t yet finished figuring something out. 

“Doesn’t matter,” But then suddenly, apparently, he had. And he shook his head coming back to present, “As long as you’re okay. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“What’s happening with him? Is it because of…” Louis rolled his wrist, hoping he didn’t have to finish the end of that. 

Edward’s jaw flexed at the memory, but nodded his head, “Mostly.”

“Mostly, what do you mean mostly? It’s a little drastic having what looked like half a Swat team coming in to arrest a what, mere five foot eleven, nineteen year old boy in the middle of a school-”

“-Eighteen and six.”

“An- what?”

“My brother and I, we turn nineteen next month and we’re six foot precisely.”

Louis didn’t know what to say to that. There was a voice somewhere in there, right at the back of his mind, under all the more pressing, relevant, intelligible stuff that sing-songed about how he’d never _actually_ chalked them up to that height before and how Liam would be absolutely distraught as that made him officially one inch shorter than Harry. 

“Why are you here?”

None of this answered what Edward had to do with any of it. Or more to the point, why he had been stood there and practically watched his brother get arrested and done absolutely jack shit to stop it. Or more alarmingly, appearing to be cruising around the lower levels of ‘stressed’ about it.

Edward sighed. Something resigned and careful. 

Clearly he was keeping from answering this question although it was probably the most obvious one to ask, looking up and down the hallway to check they were still alone before asking with a tilt to his head, “Fancy ditching class?”

He was off the wall now, straightened to his full height and holding out a hand that looked like it was en route to grab the hem of Louis’ t-shirt but thought twice about it. 

“Wh- no I do not fancy _ditching_ the class Edward, goodness sake,” Louis couldn't shake his head quick enough, almost recoiling from being put on the defence at such a suggestion, “I have an exam in like an hour, no.”

Edward clamped down on the smirk that tugged at his lips from his snooty response, sniffing a little to cover up the twitch. Edward had come to admire these sideline qualities to Louis. The raw bits of his personality that manage to tear through the front he puts on like early morning sunlight through the cracks in the drapes. It was obvious to even the most ignorant that Louis was less than comfortable in the twin’s company; after everything he’d seen, everything that had happened on the night it was clear the boy was in a state of confused limbo of wanting to be as far away as possible from Edward and wanting to know every single why and how he was too stubborn to ask. Or scared. Louis would quite frankly never admit either. 

“Alright, what time do you finish your exam?” Edward lowered his head a little, it was a resting posture for him when his attention was engaged fully in something, but the angle at which his eyes fell upon his target made it look like he were playing out rather more malevolent scenes in his mind, “it’s two o clock now so, four?”

When Louis turned back from doing his own checks down the hall, his chest did a ridiculous sinking thing again as he forgot for the briefest moments just how terrifying those eyes were.

“Four fifteen, actually.”

Edward clasped his hands behind his back, rocking forward on his heels a little.

“Then I’ll be outside at _ten past_ , waiting for you.” 

“Waiting for me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m stealing you away for an hour.”

“Why?”

“Louis do you always talk in questions?”

Louis cocked his head, “Only when the person before me manages to make no sense whatsoever.”

“I thought I was making it quite clear what my plans are with you.”

“Yes but _why_ , Edward I really need to go back, why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

Edward opened his mouth to respond but stopped to collect his phone from his back pocket, frowning at the screen before shoving it back in and continuing, “Because I need more time than a ninety second toilet break to explain.”

Which, was fair enough. And besides his will Louis was sucked in now. Whether he liked it or not he had witnessed too much, knows too much to let this whole thing slide. These past nine days have proven to be more chaotic than the past nine months.

“Okay fine,” Louis rolled his eyes, heart rate settling now, “but what if I want to drive?”

“You didn’t bring your car today.”

“How did yo-”

“-Oh sweet pea, don’t try and run away.”

“Firstly, stop with the nickname and secondly, you don’t tell me what to do.”

“It’s how I show my affection and with a face and tongue like yours I have a whole lot to give,” Edward unclasped his hands from behind his back, fingers splaying as he brought them to his front and cracked his knuckles, “and give it a month. See you at four fifteen princess.”

Louis ignored the first comment, along with the blush he could _feel_ and skipped straight to the elusiveness of the last, tilting his chin to call out after Edward who was already taking off with speed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Edward’s head duck said it all. The arrogant smirk that wasn’t visible to Louis but he’d bet his life’s income would be slapped onto his stupid face irritated him and he didn’t know why. 

No response, meant he was being the mysterious prick he just always loves to be.

Louis didn’t even know why he was expecting a response from him as he sauntered off down the corridor, leaving Louis floating in a state of utter confusion and unease and whatever amber scented cologne that was, making his senses dance with it’s spicy undertone and gorgeous musky headiness that made you close your eyes a little from it’s pleasantness, as if it were made to cater non other than Edward Styles.

It was repulsive, Louis decided. 

 

*

 

“You said four fifteen.” 

“Yeah I know but I-“

“-it’s four twenty six.” 

“-yes, I know, I got caught talking to my Engli-”

“-first thing you learn about Edward is he’s never late and hates people who are,” Edward pushed off the hood of his SUV, uncrossing his arms as he came round to the drivers side, keys dangling from his fingers, “so if your ass knows you’re going to be late then don’t bother coming at all.”

Louis quirked an eyebrow at him, coming to a stop outside the passenger door to _burn_ a disapproving gaze into the boy.

“First thing you learn about _me_ , is I hate people who talk about themselves in the third person,” He internally screamed at the height of this stupid car, noticing how Edward had no problem hauling his absurd lengthiness into it, “It’s narcissistic and just plain silly.”

“I’m both of those things.”

“That’s my point.” 

Louis shuffled into the leather seat, hating how comfortable it was and clasped his belongings onto his lap tightly. 

“Seatbelt.” 

“Seatbelt…?” Lack of manners was the second thing on that list.

The vehicle rumbled to life, the 2.0 litre engine making an impressive purr as Edward kicked it into reverse and replied without even glancing in Louis’ direction, “Seatbelt or die.”

Two minutes into the drive and it was already clear yet again, just how different the two Brother’s were.

Edward wasn’t interested in any shape or form, with entertaining small talk. 

As opposed to Harry who would’ve been falling over himself to make conversation, commenting on trivial things with as much enthusiasm as if he were talking about his weirdly endearing obsession with the Chernobyl disaster. Louis quickly tore his trail of though clear off that path, realising how it’s even weirder that he knows that and hasn’t thought about it up until right then.

Louis wasn’t particularly bothered about the silence; a part of him quite enjoyed it and felt at ease. However, when he looks to his right and considers who’s silent company he’s in, his heart starts it’s one man race again. 

“So,” Louis regretted saying anything already, “where are we going?”

Edward pulled a pair of sunglasses, the black ones that he wore at the party, from somewhere beside him and positioned them over his eyes, glancing in the rear view mirror before answering.

“You like ice cream?”

Edward winced a little as long fingers started fiddling with the radio and when Louis thought he could hear the rift of a Rage Against the Machine song, it was confirmed as those fingers swivelled the volume up to an unnecessary level.

“Anyone who answers no, is either lactose intolerant or miserable.” Louis stated, voice risen a little over the speakers.

“Shit, so what _do_ you like?”

Louis giggled. Before he had the chance to stop it, it bubbled up and out of his mouth like a wee child and he ducked his head.

Edward clearly enjoyed being the reason behind that giggle. The dimple that was facing Louis was a prudent pointer.

“Thought we could go grab some ice cream at Applebys,” Edward drummed his fingers to the percussion of ‘Know Your Enemy’ as he stopped for a red light, “late afternoon sun like this should not and will not be wasted.”

“It’s summer, we have plenty more warm afternoons left until Autumn.”

Edward turned his head towards him, expression blank and - much to Louis’ dismay and already erratic heart - with his eyes masked behind black lenses, he was totally unreadable as he took a moment to just look at him before saying, “But what if you don’t make it until next week never mind next season.”

His tongue felt thick and heavy as Louis swallowed, feeling small. So very small and trapped. He was looking straight at those lenses, not being able to see anything but the reflection of his own silhouette in front of the window. 

“Right,” He nodded, “bit of a dramatic way of putting it, but point received.”

“I’m a chocolate man myself, simple tastes.” Edward digressed, tearing down the wide country road, now in the highest gear he was showing no regard for the speed limit and Louis clutched the seatbelt strapped firmly around his torso, “Well, in most things.”

“Make mine a double mint chocolate chip.”

Edward snorted, before he pulled a disgusted expression and stuck his tongue out a little, feigning gagging. His dramatic action made him hiss a bit and he cleared his throat as he brought a hand up to his side.

“Ah yes you see? Never insult the mint, it’s the best flavour ice cream to ever grace this and probably many other worlds.”

Louis bobbed his head and watched the empty fields whip by at what must be at least 95mph before he was brought back into the car at Edwards’ quiet rasp.

“That’s Harry’s favourite too.”

 

*

 

It wasn’t the wisest decision Louis had ever made, letting a boy like Edward chauffeur him to a desolated ice cream cafe on the outskirts of the next town. Said town being just over ten miles away. 

But his better judgement had gone to pot recently and this creamy mint chocolate ice cream was slowly making him forget his less than appealing counterpart. 

Edward walked him to a table outside, located at the edge of the patio area where there were already a few people milling around; a couple of families and an elderly couple hunched over a crossword puzzle on the table closest. 

“Here is nice,” Edward pulled out the chair for Louis to take, holding his single scoop of chocolate chip in one hand.

They’d both started to tuck into their treats. Louis with a spoon as he had to get a tub from having two scoops of mint and one of normal chocolate since Edward insisted. And he was paying so.

“I can smell that minty shit from here.”

Edward had looked a little uncomfortable since he’d sat down and now it was clear as to why.

“I don’t appreciate your hostility to my perfect taste in desserts.”

“Mint, is something that should never be edible.”

Louis stuck his spoon into the middle of the chocolate scoop, swallowing his last mouthful before squinting at Edward, “Not even tic-tacs?”

“You know what I mean.”

Louis hummed around his spoon.

“So about Harry.”

Somewhere between collecting the ice cream and defending his impeccable taste he had completely, stupidly, _implausibly_ , one hundred percent forgotten exactly why he was there. 

“Yes,” His response gave none of that away however, “are you going to tell me anything or was it all a ruse to get me in your car, seduce me with ice cream and take me to a secluded spot where you will carry out my excessively violent murder?”

Edward’s laugh was more of a bark, his full smile baring his white teeth so wide his bare canines glinted in the sunlight.

“Of course, sweet pea.”

“I have to say, it’s a little concerning you’d rather be here with me than with Harry right now,” Louis pointed his spoon at him, “or your parents at least.”

Edward had finished his ice cream diligently and started nibbling on the wafer as he shook his head once.

“There’s a lot you don’t know Louis, a lot that happens behind the scenes and if you did know, you’d take an ice cream date over that any day.”

_Date._

Louis side stepped it.

“Like what?”

“Like too much for your pretty head to handle.”

“I’ll be the judge of that thank you Styles.”

“It’s my private life we’re talking about here.”

“Something I’ve kind of been dragged into.”

Was he pushing his luck? Probably. 

Edward removed his glasses, laying them before him as if he could read Louis’ mind. As if he knew what his eyes did to him and this was a warning to back off.

“I like you Louis,” Edward hadn’t looked at him yet though, too absorbed in demolishing the wafer cone he’d whittled down to half now, “you’ve got bite.”

Louis was swirling his spoon around the tub, mixing the flavours together when he paused and looked up at those eyes, taking a more electric hue in the early evening glow. 

He didn’t reply, just waited for the taller boy to continue.

“It doesn’t concern you, the ins and outs of my home life, however what does concern you, is my Brother.” Edward popped the last of it into his mouth and chewed it fully, dabbing his mouth with a paper napkin, “There’s a lot more to _him_ that what’s on the surface.”

“Okay.”

Louis tried to not let how eager he was to find whatever information he was going to get, out. He opted for shoving a huge scoop of ice cream into his mouth to stop from asking any more questions that would maybe deter Edward and let him take his time.

“Thing is with Harry, once he takes a liking to something, or someone, there’s not much he won’t do to protect it…” 

Louis’ mind sprung to life with a tiny voice that was telling him he’d heard something similar before. Something about that statement rang so familiar.

“…once he gets an idea, it’s almost impossible to shake.”

He’d definitely heard that once before now. Had Edward already said this?

“Right.” Louis nodded, trying to forget that and focus on what he was saying.

“Harry’s taken a liking to you, Louis.”

Louis nearly choked on the spoon.

“I’m sorry - _what_?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

And in all truthfulness he was resisting the urge to text Liam right now in an overly dramatic form of all capitals saying ‘YOU WERE RIGHT’ and had to squeeze the spoon to refrain from actually reaching for his mobile. 

He shook his head slowly, urging the lump of ice cream that was numbing his tongue down his throat.

“No, of course not.” 

“Well, he does a good job at hiding things so I guess it’s not a surprise he can mask affection too.” Edward repositioned himself to face Louis, the sun beating down on his broad back, the black rolling stones t-shirt he wore clinging to his shoulders as he leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “He has a disposition that makes him extremely, how can I put this…” 

“Posessive?”

Edward looked up at him then, green slicing straight through the air to meet blue.

“Possessive.” Edward agreed, a weird tilt to his lips, “He can’t help it, he struggles with processing his affections and establishing the correct ways to go about them, so instead he’ll keep at a distance and do what he can from there.”

“Like a stalker?”

Edward hummed, enjoying how this was all falling into place nicely.

“Employing your previous comment of ‘ _a little dramatic way of putting it_ ’, but yeah sort of.”

Louis is confused. Actually confused doesn’t seem enough to cover his alarmingly muddled mental state at present. He’s been struggling enough as it is to keep up with recent events and all the information that had come with them and now this. Harry Styles was most definitely very fond of him. Liam was right all along. That wise, observant bastard.

“But don’t let me freak you out,” Edward held out a large paw, the silver of his ring catching in the light.

Louis looked at him like he’d just said the most incredulous thing yet.

“I mean, it’s not his fault. On the whole, he’s harmless, I mean he has to be he’s had you fooled all this time.”

What.

“What do you mean ‘ _had me fooled_ ’?”

“Oh no, I mean - like, um - _shit_ ,”

“Bad choice of words or slip of the tongue?”

“Bad choice of words, honestly. What I meant was, all this time you’ve never suspected him of anything even close to violence- associating Harry with anger would probably be like associating a kitten with mass murder right?”

Louis pushed his tub of ice cream forward, appetite firmly forgotten shortly after the stalker comment and pushed out a long sigh through his nose. He ran a hand through his hair making the soft tufts ripple and remain tousled as he looked at the elderly couple to their side.

“Edward what are you trying to tell me?”

On the inside, Edward beamed. On the outside, he looked a picture of regret and conflict.

“I’m trying to protect you.”

Louis jogged his leg under the table, shoving his hands underneath his thighs and finding anchor there. Hoping this would keep him seated and not fleeing as far away from here as possible.

The neckline of his thin sweater gaped a little and Edward did everything in his power to not look at the soft flesh and perfect bone structure offered there. 

“Please don’t judge my Brother, it’s not his fault. He get’s like this sometimes, he’s possessive and with that comes protectiveness, which is why he lashed out so much on Ryan. Which is the other thing I wanted to talk to you about, his arrest-”

Louis’ eyes bulged. He could see the headlines.

“-He didn’t kill him…”

Edward giggled and Louis struggled to understand why.

“No,” He shook his head, “No it’s not that, I didn’t want you feeling like you have to come forward and defend him.”

“Who, Harry?”

Edward nodded, cracking his knuckles again.

“But, that guy, he was going to…” Louis pressed his lips, closing his eyes at something he’d absolutely forced himself to not thinking about, “if you two hadn’t come in we both know what would’ve happened. Harry only acted in light of that.”

“Correct, you’re spot on, but,” Edward paused, making sure he had Louis’ full attention, “being arrested will do him good. Get him the help he needs. He needs this shock every so often, something to rupture his thought process, to bring him back to earth and remind him how it’s simply not okay to hurt people like that.”

Louis’ head hurt. Genuinely, ached.

"So you're saying I should let him get punished for something he was doing in defence. In _my_ defence?"

“Yes, this needs to happen. That’s part of the reason I’m not with him right now, I’m used to this.”

“…this has happened before?”

“Have you not listened to anything I’ve been telling you?”

“You’ve been a little watered down with the details so I don’t really know what to-”

“-all I ever want to do, is protect him.”

“From what?”

“Nothing, just-”

“Edward stop curving, protect him from what?”

Louis’ temperament was a sweet spot for Edward. It made this a lot easier for Edward. He enjoyed his demanding insistence, his stubborn _everything_ and overall need to be obeyed and catered to. Something he planned on doing in every sense very soon. 

“Being exposed.”

“As what? Edward what aren’t you telling me? How can I trust anything you say if you’re not going to be completely honest?”

Edward groaned as he scrubbed his hands over his face, frustration evident and Louis almost felt guilty for pushing it again.

“Edward.”

Almost.

"I must stay loyal to my blood therefore I'm not going to tell you everything, not yet anyway," Edward searched Louis' face for any interruption, or ensured there wouldn't be one either way he carried on, "I'm telling you what you need to know, the information that is _vital_ to your safety, now that you're in this deep."

Louis' lack of response matched Edward's monologue and he wallowed in it.

“Louis,” A large hand landed on Louis knee, supposedly aimed for that part anyway but with the span of his palm it ended up half on his thigh and Louis stared at it, “we got off to a bad start, granted. You don’t have to like me, we don't have to be anything more than what we are but I _need_ you to trust me.”

The tables had very literally turned in a matter of minutes and Louis was looking at the six foot, tattooed boy before him in quite a different light than what he was moments ago. 

“But that’s just it, I don’t even know you. You could be making all of this up, how can I? You're wanting me to remain silent on a crime committed towards me I just...”

Edward’s eyes stared at him for a beat. Or through him, Louis couldn’t distinguish between the two anymore.

“If I show you something, you have to promise to keep it to yourself.”

“What? No, why? No I can’t- but what is it?”

Edward sat back, subsequently removing his hand from Louis body and let both hands instead trail up his own thighs until they rest spanning at the top near his hips, looking like he were poised to rise.

“It will convince you to trust me.”

Louis nodded after giving it little thought, head far too dizzy to protest to anything right now. 

“ _Oh my-_ ”

He wasn’t quite expecting it when Edward pulled his seat forward. Literally Louis’ seat. The metal item of furniture Louis was perched on was being pulled forward, one of Edward’s hands located itself between Louis thighs to grip the underneath of the metal exposed there and drag him forward until their knees bumped and Edward let out a pained grunt.

“Uh what a-”

“-Shh,” Edward removed his hand, adjusting their legs so they slotted a little into each other, side by side, “I need you to be close enough so others won’t see.”

For a minuscule moment, Louis’ mind was in the gutter. 

But when Edward started fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, he scratched the indecency and focused on the material that was being lifted slowly to reveal the hunched over version of the body he’d been blessed with three days previous.

Louis was human. A tiny male human. He could recognise and _appreciate_ a decent physique even if the person behind it was far less enthralling. 

He was a breath away from making a sarcastic comment about there being a nudist beach not far from here but the further it got lifted, the sooner he realised what this was for.

That horrific feeling he got in his chest earlier when he saw Edward in the hall was duplicated now, nausea tugging at his innards at what was revealed to him. 

“I know all too well just how bad my Brother can get.”

Louis covered the choked sound with a palm slapped against his mouth. Something that had grown clammy and hot, as he soaked in the purple markings to Edward’s upper stomach, a small trail of crimson littered scantly up and over his ribs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to classical music a lot lately and when I started looking for a certain piece I came across a strange song, ended up playing it on repeat whilst I wrote the majority of this one as I feel like it fits Edward perfectly. It's slow and eery, but just the un holy undercurrent I hold for his character. [Listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-iVYu5lyX5M) to it if you like, but turn the volume up. The top comment for the video says everything I thought before I even read it. 
> 
> As always, thanks for putting up with my weak updates and thank you so much for your amazing feedback, it really helps.

_-Five days later-_

 

The minute hand struck twelve. Three o’clock. The last sixty seconds had felt like an hour, the second hand dragging on an echo through the room from one tick to the next, mocking the students who gawked at it with heady sombreness, limbs so lax and _bored_ that it was a wonder they weren’t drooling. 

The sounding of a bell had never felt so good. 

Especially for Louis, as this was his final exam of the year which meant sixth form, for him, was officially over. 

He’d managed to make it an entire day - well since around seven from the previous evening - without physically speaking to another, something he hadn’t figured was something one of his social hierarchy could accomplish nor had he even realised he’d done it until he walked straight into an excited Percy waiting for him right outside the hall.

“ _oomph! oh m-_ ,” Louis just missed knocking their heads together, “Percy, hi.” 

His voice had a horrible croak to it and his throat felt like it’d shrivelled up and gone back to sleep. Much like his brain, after that boring and considerably easier than it’s previous versions drama theory exam.

“So, last day,” Percy’s eyes shone with something Louis registered with a slow eye brow raise, “can you hear that?”

“What?”

Percy leant in to whisper in his ear as he caught up, “ _Freedom_.”

Louis giggled at his stupidity, shaking away the ticklish sensation on his neck.

“I know and it’s a glorious sound my friend.”

“That it is. Shall we take the Benz to Benford Shore?”

Louis could imagine it, in Percy’s vintage Mercedes, top down, riding shotgun with Liam and Jake in the back probably. But right now, he just couldn’t bring himself to imagine anything worse. For a second he danced with the idea of ripping himself out of his weird dream like state, forgetting the events of the previous few days and letting his hair down with his nearest and dearest; he knew it would be so much fun and after a couple of sweet Belgium beers he’d more than likely end up enjoying himself a little too much.

“Sounds like a stellar plan Percy boy, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

Louis didn’t meet his eye on the last bit. Focusing on moving his way forward through he bodies of students piling out of the hall around him. 

“And why the hell not?” Percy almost snapped, a ridiculous scowl scrunching his features, “It’s not like you to turn down a beach date.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I promised Lucy I’d help her stretch out for her performance on Saturday,” Louis turned sideways and slipped past a girl who had just dropped her books over the floor, not bothering to stop and help, rather just stepped up and over, “wants me to help her rehearse, warm up, you know the drill.”

Percy looked back at the girl collecting her belongings, laughing at her embarrassment as she only ended up dropping them all again when some lanky kid tripped over her foot. 

“Ugh, fine. She’s been banging on about that thing for weeks now so I guess I can understand,” He turned back towards Louis, following him through a set of double doors that were held open by some guy he recognised - he couldn’t _quite_ recall where from - holding the door open for Louis rather than the both of them, “You do you-”

“-Hey Louis, how’s it going?”

Louis wasn’t looking up when he accepted the open door with a small nod. Normally, he wouldn’t even do that, opting for completely ignoring whoever it was as a door being held for him is the least he expects. But just after he muttered a small thanks, his eyes lifted up at that voice.

Surely it wasn’t normal for someone’s throat to run dry so quickly. But Louis definitely found himself having trouble swallowing or forming any coherent response when he looked at the bulky boy before him.

“-Ben,” Obviously. “Ben I’m-” _Good?_ “-okay, absolutely, yeah. I’m okay.”

Percy slowed from a mild stroll to a full stop and regarded his friend with a quirked brow.

Shit. Percy didn't know a thing. Only Liam.

“Excellent.” Ben nodded, ignoring everyone, including Percy, keeping his eyes planted on Louis when he continued, “Listen, I heard what happened at the party and I just wanted to s-“

“-It’s fine.” Louis’ suspicions were confirmed. Of course Ben would’ve found out, he was the one who had invited Ryan after all, “I’m actually in a bit of a rush, so I’ll talk to you soon yeah? Sorry.”

The little apology tacked on the end came as a surprise to all three boys. Completely out of character, just like everything else Louis had just stuttered out. Percy didn’t miss any of it and Louis needed to get away so no further interrogation was taken out from him, always a worrier. Or inappropriately curious. Liam being the analytical one. Jake was somewhere in between. 

And Louis? Louis was none of the above.

But right now, he was mush. He was pretty sure he’d thank someone for knocking him out round about now. Or if the ground opened up to the fiery pits of hell. He’d sincerely welcome either.

“Percy, I’ll text you later, really gotta go, I’m already late,” Louis shot him a look he hoped would come across as apologetic but definitely appeared more fear stricken and forced, “Sorry again, bye.”

 

*

 

It wasn’t a total lie. Lucy had mentioned wanting to loosen up a little prior to her big performance in ‘Lest We Forget’ but that was tomorrow. Also, he’d been fantasising about a bit of alone time for those last fifteen minutes of the exam, where he’d waited head in hand, and thought about how in half an hour he’d be able to have studio B2 entirely to himself. It was his favourite room. And he was his teacher’s favourite student, of course, so he was trusted with a spare set of keys allowing him access to the rooms whenever he needed it. 

And right now, he was absolutely in dire need of some space. The clarity that came with stretching his sore, neglected muscles, having been focused far too much on his theory exams than any practical ones that had taken place a couple months prior. 

Louis hovered his finger over the music system, weighing up the difficult choice of Liebstraum or Tchaikovsky when he realised something. 

Silence. 

The peace that came with it. 

No one and nothing but his own heartbeat to fill the void of the empty room. 

It was perfect. The first real bit of alone time he’d had in weeks. He decided he was going to utilise this to a full advantage, rolling his head around on top of his shoulders already as he walked to the centre of the floor, stretching his arms up and above his head and to the side as a warm up before the real work began.

It was beautiful. Louis had unintentionally, gone entirely off his intended path of rehearsing his own routine and ended up doing some rather advanced yoga instead. Something his Mother had ensured he followed regardless of whether he took up dance or any kind of performing arts; insisting on the benefits gained, the zen it allows, is the cure to any stress. 

The steady tranquility was soon split down the middle at the sound of the door being pushed open on a soft creak. 

And when Louis paused mid stretch, enjoying the orgasmic pull on his thighs he held onto the inside of this calves and leant forward for leverage, wondering if it actually was today that he was meant to be helping Lucy rehearse. He walked his hands backwards so his back was straight and turned in an instant to the intrusion.

Yet again, Louis was struck dumb.

“E- _Edward?_ ” He had to do a double take because the tact this boy had was really something else.

And the way he was looking at him - the way he _always_ looked at him - like he knew he made his skin itch, had weird mini chemical reactions sparking in the pit of Louis’ stomach. 

Louis didn’t know exactly what those stares held. But he was pretty sure they held a hundred words that weren’t going to be spoken in any near future; Edward did a lot of his talking with his body, with his actions and the rest he just leaves for you to figure out by yourself. It was frustrating because he wasn’t supposed to care enough to deduct this much from the boy; Louis wasn’t sure why he found everything about the older boy so gripping and domineering that he just had to stop and look when he walked in a room.

“Sweet pea.” Edward’s voice hummed and much like his being there, contributed to the disruption of, well, everything. 

“You know, I know you’re a sort to do whatever pleases you and disregard pretty much anything else,” Louis started, the sarcastic tone had Edward biting back a fond smirk already knowing he’s going to love what’s coming, “but I never thought you were _actually_ the sort to do literally whatever pleases and disregard you know, _the law_.”

Edward was almost completely lost to his loose will, having walked in on Louis in the position he was, lean, toned thighs spread in loose flimsy cotton shorts as his torso was laid flat out forward. 

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Louis’ limbs felt scorched from the stare that he hadn’t missed. He collected them and stood up from his stretch, rolling his ankles to loosen that little ache as he straightened out his white t-shirt. 

“You’ve broken into private property.” Louis replied, almost as a question as if he was baffled he had to explain himself, “I could understand how you could just waltz onto the school grounds like you did the other day without anyone batting an eyelid because it’s open but here, this is a private house and it was locked. I know this because-“

“-You’re the only one here.”

Louis snapped his jaw shut and placed two hands on his hips.

Edward didn’t miss it, didn't make a point at hiding his perverted gaze as it travelled south and _hello curves_.

“Correct.” 

There was something less cool about Louis. Usually his tone was cutting but since their last meeting he was finding it difficult to maintain his usual distaste. And if he were being honest, there was no such thing there anymore anyway. Finding out someone has been getting physically attacked by their twin sibling really softens your approach, it does things to you.

Edward bowed his head, a boyish gesture that highlighted his age as a smirk peaked to life, those dimples Louis definitely doesn’t stare at for longer than necessary coming and going in an instance when he then looks to Louis’ possessions on the long wooden bench next to the mirrored walls. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I knew? That’s my favourite part.” Edward’s words were drawn out slow and sticky, as opposed to the stride he took up, walking straight towards the pile of Louis’ things on the bench.

“Knew what?” 

“Where you were.”

Louis rolled his eyes, almost about to smile but when he saw Edward picking up his sweater he shut it down and joined him, “Hey, nosey.

Edward didn’t stop nor did he look at him, just lifted the thinly knit item further, revealing his phone underneath. 

“I don’t bother asking because I know how it will tickle your obnoxious ego and it’s love of being elusive and just generally odd,” Louis narrowed his gaze as Edward transferred the sweater to the other hand and _away_ from him, “… also I don’t want to much think on how I have _two_ stalkers.”

“Are you tarring me with the same brush as my brother Louis Tomlinson?” Edward’s voice was so low, Louis was almost becoming accustomed to it’s rumble, “I’m keeping this by the way, smells like you.”

“Absolutely.” Louis hopped around to the other side, but Edward was too fast, “Perhaps worse.”

Edward’s jaw fell open on a strange hybrid of a gasp and laugh, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he looked at the petite boy hopping around him.

“Right.”

He flung his arm in the air as far as it would go, bunching the sweater into a tiny ball that he encompassed with one hand and held it there, only going on his tiptoes when Louis did, watching Louis jump up to try and retrieve it and then lapping up the look of horror on his face when he realised he was at a tangible disadvantage. 

“Give it back.”

Edward shook his head, “No.”

“Give it, _back._ ”

Edward seemed to consider his response, mouth turned down in a pensive tilt until he shook his head slowly again, “…No.”

“I swear I’ll-"

“-What? Climb me?”

“Height, is the one thing you have on me.”

“And strength,” Edward dodged another jump, barely executing an effort, “Intellect, general dominance, _humour_ , stamina…”

Louis made an embarrassing squealing noise before nudging Edward’s chest, “You’re so _annoying!_ ” 

“And you’re so short tempered.”

Louis spotted the pun at the same time Edward’s eye’s lit up and he pointed a finger, “ _Don’t._ ”

But he couldn’t hold it anymore and Louis hung his head back on a short but exquisite laugh, making the corners of his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunch up when he tried to dampen it. He then looked back at Edward with a childish gait. A smug, eyebrow waggling, _tall_ Edward still holding his orang-utan arm mid air. 

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Edward asked, Louis seeing this as a clear cut challenge.

Louis stood there for a while longer and just looked at the boy, taking in how he hadn't flinched once since he'd been here, how he seems to have recovered enough that he could...

He slowly started to nod his head and then raised his hands in defeat, squinting on a defeated sigh as he stepped back from Edward’s space. 

“Fine,” His hands slapped against the side of his hips as they fell back and he nodded again, walking around the back of a smirking Edward, “fine you win, you nine foot whatever giraffe.”

“Know your match princess,” Edward retorted, bringing his arm back once he was satisfied Louis was out of reach, starting to fold the article, “Consider it not a sign of weakness, recognising defeat is a- _ah!_ ”

Louis had - after a small run up that was undetectable with his bare feat on the wooden floor - leapt onto Edward’s back and grappled him from behind, legs coming to an expert hold around his middle and arms tackling Edward’s trying to unwind his belonging from his relentless paws. 

Their laughter merged just as much as their limbs with parallel contrast; Louis’ high pitched giggles and jabbing protests mixed with Edwards gruff chuckle and expert evasion. But it was short lived by Edward’s call. Even with a person on his back and a mildly sore middle region he still was the one with the upper hand. 

“You want it?”

Louis gripped the front of Edward’s t-shirt as he leant forward, biting his bottom lip to keep in his giggles, fingers splaying and wiggling to get a hold of his wrist.

“ _Give… me…_ ” 

The strain in Louis’ body was minor but nothing compared to the strain on his heart when he was suddenly hoisted up and over the top of Edward, faster than he could manage to react, way faster than what should probably be possible and fell on his two bare feet, knees bent, an arm wrapped around his torso to steady his landing. 

The arm pulled him up to a standing position and held him flat against the length of Edward’s front in an instant.

“Give you what?” Edward’s voice came out steady and unlabored. As if he hadn’t just flipped a human body full circle over his own.

Louis closed his eyes. The sound of such a voice always and forever drawing unreadable emotions from him.

“This?” 

Louis didn’t need to open them again to know the movement to his side was Edward’s other arm holding out his stupid jumper. 

“Mh.” 

_Words Louis._

“Mmh?” Edward taunted.

Were they swaying? They were swaying. Louis noticed how Edward had adopted a light dance, hand on his stomach spreading to it’s full and rather intimidating size atop his abdominals. But Louis didn’t think about that. Louis didn’t get intimidated. Nor did he get made speechless.

“You can keep it.”

“What did you say?” The grin was audible.

“If it means that much to you and it gets you off by back…” Louis turned his head and angled it upwards to give Edward _the look_ , “then yes, you can have it.”

Edward’s smile stretched slowly, it birthed from somewhere unsure and testing, lips spreading further as the small boy in his arms looked at him like that, with just as much character and defiance and adoring sardonic intent that he felt it impossible to not cave to it.

“But look,” Edward moved them round so they were facing the mirrored wall, bringing his other arm to snake round his middle also, “look how cute we look.”

Edward’s body heat radiated into Louis’ back. There weren’t a pane of skin that didn’t feel solid and warm against him. Louis would be literally able to carve out each muscle in his torso from their touch alone if he were asked.

“Cute?” He scrunched his nose, not noticing how his own hands had come to rest on top of Edward’s restricting forearms by instinct. Whether they were bracing to push away or pull him further was something he would later wish he’d decided quicker, looking back up at Edward with a disgusted cast at his choice of words only to be nudged, actually _nudged_ by the boy’s nose to look forward.

And once again, all physical ability to speak, think and focus on anything but that what was being presented before him, vanished. Quite like the promise he made to himself that he’d never allow himself to be lulled into this position again, in the literal sense and not.

Louis had felt like his brain had taken a brief vacation, leaving his aching body to fend for itself in the meantime. 

Edward was wrong. This wasn’t cute. Nothing about their reflection was cute. 

Louis was Louis, he was used to his mirror image but what he was no way near accustomed to was having that body attached behind; those few inches that he had on him, the span of shoulders and arms that from every angle it seemed, dwarfed his own. Everything about the boy grappling his middle, causing his stomach to bubble with _something_ seemed as if he had been sent to Louis to serve one purpose and that was to make him feel everything he thought he could never. Beyond small, _tiny_ even. Alone, even in a room full of people - or rather, as Louis recalls it, a poolside of people. Hesitant, always reconsidering and doubting himself. And intimidated, for no longer could he deny it, eyes that hold such a royal shade of green, electric and bright, looked much darker now. Too focused on Louis in the reflection. Something about the way they’re looking at him again, like he was waiting. 

Edward’s dip of his head into the soft and slightly damp curve of Louis’ neck, his scent was strongest here and Edward had to stop himself from driving Louis into the mirror before them and claiming something he hadn’t earned yet, got Louis’ attention.

“Sweet pea,” Edward was reminded why he chose such a name, inhaling the infectious scent that laid on the fragile stretch of skin as he nosed along his pulse point, “you’re burning up.”

Louis knew it. And he knew Edward knew it. It would be foolish to try and deny his raised pulse when Edward was practically sharing it. He swallowed hard before replying, making sure it wouldn’t come out patchy.

“It’s a little um,” Louis’ fingers splayed out on the shifting forearms around his middle, watching in the reflection how they’re pulling apart and now only two large hands rest at his flanks, “I’m a little hot.”

Edwards’ response was nothing more than a hum. The vibration it offered made every square inch of bare skin on his body feel over sensitised, turning his spine into something far less durable than what it were moments ago. 

“From scaling your back - _Edward_ ,” Louis gripped his wrists when those hands at his waist tightened, finger pads digging into the toned muscle there, “ _Ah_ , Edward.” 

Louis didn’t know whether to giggle, didn’t know if this was light hearted play or something that ran more along the vein of the Edward Louis first met. He didn’t know what the mood was anymore, unsure of what his own feelings were anymore. He really needed his higher brain power to return. Especially when the hot breath pooling at his neck juncture stopped on it’s travels and Louis stared at the full lips hovering over his skin, waiting. 

Eyes flicked up to meet Louis’ in the reflection and Louis thought he might cry from the weight of it.

“Edward-” 

He pushed on the wrists at his side, pushed hard but they weren’t giving. 

Panic was settling in, skin hot and clammy and sensitive, nerves on fire as he tried to wriggle away. He turned his head away from the mirror, not wanting to stare at those eyes anymore, sure that the image was distorted from the reflection. 

“What’s the matter?” 

Louis’ heart spasmed. That low sound seeming to be able to do that with it’s abrasive quality. Louis really needed to know if this was going to be a regular occurrence because he was quite sick of feeling jittery and not knowing if it was a good thing or bad.

“Hey-” Edward let go, a look of what would would be called _genuine_ concern across his face, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Louis had stepped forward immediately and swivelled round so his back was to the mirror, facing the real thing and not something that could play mind tricks, “Nothing, I’m just a little-“

There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room and Louis’ head spun. The air he got into his lungs was hot and thick, feeling like he was only able to inhale what Edward was allowing him to.

Edward watched as Louis ran a hand across his forehead, pushing back his soft fringe, the other coming to rest on his hip. 

His gaze fell to the fluctuating rhythm of his breath. His chest rabbiting away from his nerves being shook. 

“What’s the matter with you?”

Louis stopped analysing the spot of polished wood on the floor and looked up at Edward then. _What’s the matter with you, Edward?_ This boy was shifting between personalities constantly and Louis was tired of trying to keep up; never knowing which Edward he was going to be met with from one minute to the next.

He tried a different tact.

“I saw Ben today.”

Edward rolls his head, a crack breaking the silence and closes his eyes for a beat.

“Ben who?”

Louis ignored the ache that was creeping up his on neck.

“Ryan Tockwell’s friend.”

Edward was all eyes, all ears, all centred on Louis at that, his fingers twitched a little at his side whilst a slow and eventual frown pushes onto his brow. There was always something so solid and whole about him when holding such a stance, especially when he looks right at you like he was Louis. 

“What did he say to you?”

“Not much,” Louis shakes his head, trying to shake the stare along with it, “he just, he just reminds me of… you know. So I think I’m a little shook from that. And I pretty much ran away.”

“Yeah,” Edward hummed, almost in agreeance before he caught Louis’ questioning gaze and altered his response, “What, do you mean you ran away?”

Louis shrugged. 

Why were he so able before? Not five minutes previous he was so _alright_ and okay and now, now he’s this again? He’s all short, jumbled sentences left open and intelligible at most. 

“I don’t know, I sort of made my excuses before he had chance to strike up a conversation and came straight here. Like an idiot.”

“Do you think he knows about Harry?”

Edward blinked a few times, head turned down as he started folding the delicate jumper in his hands, considering his answer, to choose his words oh so carefully before he finally spoke.

“If you mean the fact he got arrested, sweet pea the whole school will know by now.”

“The whole school knows?”

“Yes.”

Louis realised he hadn’t moved. Only when Edward was the first to, walking over to the bench again and sitting down on it, did he realise his feet had been temporarily glued to the spot. He pouted absentmindedly, his mind taking another course for a moment to recall those last seconds in which he saw Harry get escorted down the corridor by those men.

“S’tragic.”

It was soft. A whisper at best, a little bit of Edward’s rasp working it’s way into Louis’ own vocal chords, but Edward caught it.

“What is?” He already sounded offended, disagreeing with something Louis hadn’t even said yet.

“His arrest, how it was handled and well, actually,” Louis turned around, peering at his feet as he stretched them out, bare toes wiggling, “everything about that boy is kind of tragic.”

Edward snorted, but it doesn’t matter. Weirdly, even that sounded attractive.

“Are you trying to say you feel _sorry_ for him?” The squint was hovering on comical, once Louis raised his gaze to meet it, but dropping his eyes to the rest of his extensive body, suddenly all humour ceased.

“I- no, well, maybe?”

Edward was on his feet again and the fear that had _literally_ just started to ebb away came back with a vengeance with his rise, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“So I tell you exactly what this kid is like, how he’s an uncontrollable monster when it comes to things he wants, how he practically beat the shit out of me because I spoke to you that day, _spoke_ to you Louis,” Edward was stepping forward gradually, talking with his hands, jawline tense and flexed through his tension, “how he had to miss an entire week of school because he refused to take his medication and was in containment because of his outburst on me for a whole four days, the pain he puts my parents through every fucking day with his unhinged tendencies and over obsessive mind set and you tell me right now, how after everything you know, _which_ , might I add, is only the first page of chapter one in the fucking book that is that bastard, and you tell me… you feel _sorry_ for him?!”

Alright. 

So Louis felt terrible . How could he use such loose vocabulary around Edward like that? How could even suggest the fact he felt even the slightest brush of pity for his Brother after what Edward had told him. No, what Edward had entrusted with him. He didn’t have to do that, he didn’t show Louis his bruises, recall the memories of his attacks for his own benefit - it was all for Louis. He relived that pain just to help Louis see and what does he do in return? Literally smack him in the face with how he _feels sorry for him._

More like a firm kick to the crotch.

“Edward… I didn’t mean that, of course I didn’t mean that I-“

Edward shook his head, licked his lips once on a humourless laugh. 

“Forget it, I’m out.”

“ _No_ , no you’re not let me explain-“

“-No need Louis.”

Louis may not like it when he addresses him by means of a nickname, but he knew when he did, he was at least happy. If he could get him to call him that pet name, he knew he’d have him.

“No please, wait!” Louis was in front of Edward, small - again - but determined, a few strides from the door, “I didn’t mean it. You’ve been so lovely I don’t deserve it, I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry for that.”

Edward stopped. It was a start. 

“You’re pretty, but you’re not convincing.” Edward moved forward and Louis stopped him with two open palms on his stomach, feeling the muscle underneath tense with the contact. 

“Then how can I prove it? Please, Edward.”

Edward knew he wasn’t going to hold this against him. He wouldn’t abandon this endeavour over something so stupid. But he was definitely going to draw it out, enjoying this desperate side of Louis a little too much.

“Each and every one of our interactions have been prompted by me. You’ve been falsely tolerate throughout, making your dislike towards me crystal clear. But with what I told you I thought that might change,” Edward took a pause to make sure the pain was registering in Louis’ eyes, “All I wanted today was to come here and check you were alright after our heated discussion the other day. Clearly my efforts are wasted.”

Louis pushed on the area he held again, stopping Edward’s - whimsical - force, “You’re right, you’re so right - I’ve been a dick, but I don’t think that about you, not now anyway.”

“Louis get out of my way.” 

“No. I… you’re not a bad person.”

Edward narrowed his gaze, “Go on.”

“As much as it _kills_ me to say this, as much as I’d rather be punched square in the face with a medicine ball and maybe ran over a few times by an oil tank-”

“Louis.”

Louis grinned and Edward’s heart fluttered. 

“Beneath it all… you’re alright.” Louis rolled his eyes at him, “So yeah, let’s hang out. Today. I _want_ to hang out with you. You’ve been kind enough to step in and warn me about all of this with your Brother when, in reality you could’ve chosen to ignore everything and let me take the brunt of it. After all I’ve been not the politest to you so far.”

“You wanna hang out…”

Louis didn’t waste a second before nodding, sealing it, “Absolutely. I want to get to know you.”

“You’re doing this out of guilt.”

“Wrong. The idea has been mulling around for a while, the guilt has just kickstarted it a little earlier than planned.”

“Fucking hell princess,” Edward’s smile was charming. It was _charming_ and brilliant and Louis found himself smiling right back, even though he still absolutely did not approve of the nickname, “that was the best round a bout apology I ever did witness.”

The punch Louis landed on Edward’s bicep as he passed him to the bench was accepted in good grace, but not returned. Edward far too engaged in the sashay of his hips and then that famous curve, the best on his body besides the tender line of his waist to hip juncture, as he bent over to collect his things.

 

 

*

 

 

Pulling up to the double iron gates, Louis was already sure Edward was playing a massive joke. But he kept stumped. Not wanting to step another foot wrong today, fearing Edward may just deliver on his earlier statement of wanting to be run over. 

He held back his gasp as they opened from Edward’s beeper and they pulled into the estate, the gravel underneath the tyres a satisfying crunch from the slow ascent up to the staggering property. 

“The Mercedes’s gone, Parents must be out.” Edward noted, letting his belt ping back into place after glancing at the clock on his dashboard, “Excellent.”

They were out the car quickly, Edward snorting at Louis’ short comments about how he should’ve come round and opened his door for him, how he should always open the door for his passenger, that it’s common courtesy and really, living in a house of this stature he’s surprised his parents haven’t taught him such basic things.

“Oh my sweet pea,” Edward was never going to grow tired of causing offence to this boy, especially when he got even cuter with it’s affect, “I am neither common nor courteous. And just because we are wealthy doesn’t automatically call for us to be proper.”

“Clearly.”

Edward winked at Louis, who gave him a disgusted look. But it was barely a look, more of a pout than a scowl.

“I hope you have food.”

“I don’t usually have guests,” Edward replied simply, nothing about his expression indicating he was jesting, “So I don’t have to think about feeding anyone but myself.”

Louis quirked an eyebrow as Edward pushed the large oak door forward and held out a hand for him to enter.

"So is that a no to the food?"

Edward shook his head, "I'll have the chef cook you whatever you want, now if you please."

“Should I be honoured I’m one of the few that gets to see the inside of the Styles mansion?”

Edward glowered, following the boy with his eyes as he slipped past him, “Definitely.”

For a second, Louis forgot where he was and who it belonged to. But the second he stepped into the [entrance hall](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/06/17/12/29B1AFF400000578-0-image-a-5_1434538950413.jpg) of this spectacular abode a reminder was brought back in the shape of the grand staircase before him, along with the great big whopping chandelier that was hanging in the middle of the high risen ceiling of the lobby. Louis craned his neck to admire the glittering object and got distracted by the extravagance of the too-large skylight. 

Trying to not let the feeling of awe consume him whole he noted how it felt like he’d stepped into a fairytale castle, but instead of a beautiful Princess or charming Prince there were the Styles. Which, as he ran his fingers along the corner of the black iron railings, he came to think of how this was the last place on earth he would’ve placed such boys. Everything was so white. Or off white, cream maybe. Either way he was surrounded by what was mostly shiny marble. Elegance, class and money. So much money. Along with overwhelming awe, his next thought was how inferior he felt to these people, to this _house_. Not that it would be the first time Edward Styles had managed to overpower him or his expectations, but this was quite different. 

Louis was wondering what else there was he didn’t know about these Brothers.

The sound of keys being dropped against what sounded like glass came from his right and he snapped his head towards it, seeing Edward let out a small sigh and pat down the back of his jean pockets.

“I'm guessing by your vacant stare you want a tour of th-”

“ _Edward!_ ”

Both heads immediately turned to the distant call and for a second, held very similar expressions - surprise.

“ _Edward!_ ” 

But there it was again and Louis’ fell into something much more fearful, lips ghosting on the tip of a embarrassing whimper. He didn’t move his eyes from looking down the open junction before him, staring past the overcompensatingly large arrangement of flowers in the middle of a glass table, when he spoke after swallowing that whimper.

“Uh, Edward, I thought you said he was being detained.”

Edward had moved, _was_ moving, into Louis’ peripherals and quite blatantly in front of him, holding out a hand slightly as if it were a warning to stay put.

“Looks like he’s home early,” Edward had lost all humour. Any spark of an ego was lost in that split second upon hearing his Brother’s voice ring through, “Louis you might want to hide.”

“ _What?_ No, no way am I leaving you with hi-”

“-Louis. If he sees you with me it will make him worse. Think about it.”

Louis didn’t need to think about it, of course that made perfect sense. How could he be so stupid? Realisation struck just as Edward turned back to look back at him again, a rueful air that seemed so foreign on him. 

“Up the stairs, to the left, down the first corridor and two doors down is my room. Go.”

“Can you repeat that o-”

“ _Go!_ ”

Edward’s strained voice got him moving, the tendon in his neck a warning. The last time he remembers moving this fast was when he were escaping Edward, ironically, at the pool party. If someone had told him that he’d be moving with just as much haste, in his _home_ a week later but from the other Brother, he would’ve scoffed over the rim of his glass.

“ _You_ ,” It was directed, quite clearly, at Edward, as footsteps picked up tremendous walking speed and headed straight towards him, “you fucking _cunt_.”

Louis had just reached the top of the vast staircase when that voice sounded much closer than it was before, the marble lacking the creak that wood would have so he knew he would go unheard by the wrong pair of ears. He looked down as the echo of the curse word bounced around the foyer and smashed into his chest, watching helplessly as Edward was seized by the scuff of his neck and backed up mercilessly into the marble pillar directly behind him.

His fingertips burned against the corner of the wall, knowing he should obey orders and just walk away. This was Edward. He could deal with this. Heck, he has been dealing with it for the better half of his life so he’ll be okay. 

Whatever it was that he was mad for, Edward would coax him into calm. Just like he explains he does every time. 

“ _Brother_ ,” Edward’s reply was muffled, choked, as there was a hand restricting his throat, pushing he back of his skull painfully into the pillar, “T-talk - _talk to me._ ”

Louis clenched his eyes shut and stood with his back flat against the wall out of sight. 

He bit his lip and ripped his head away from it's resting place, along with his body, letting the sound of Harry’s laden voice fade into the distance as he took off with a blistering speed down the first corridor.


	8. Chapter 8

“H- _arry_ ,” Edward was struggling, probably thrown off guard by the abruptness of it all, “shit _ah_ \- what is-"

There wasn’t much he could get out coherently with that hand secured around his neck, the other slamming his own back against the pillar to fight against his efforts to get him off. 

“Sorry Brother, am I _hurting_ you?” 

Nothing more than a strangled noise caught on a desperate huff escaped Edward's lips, teeth clenched as he tried to resist the tightening of the clamp at his airways and the light headedness that was slowly creeping its way into his consciousness. 

“What do you think’s worse,” Although he couldn’t see him, the tilt Harry had his face pegged at meant he had to stare at the embossed ceiling trim, he could hear him just fine; every word reaching his ears with cruel intention, “emotional pain… or _physical._ ”

The hand that was bolting Edward’s wrist to the pillar twisted on the last word and his lungs nearly collapsed with the effort of crying out in pain. 

It was released immediately, Harry locking onto his sibling, surveying the damage he’s done and feeling satisfied. He stepped back with a heavy mass behind his eyes, an even heavier weight sitting in his chest, rumbling still with a rage that would dwindle a tropical storm - only a fraction of it seeming to have chipped away from bringing his Brother discomfort. 

“I guess it’s a close call.”

Back having slid down the pillar, too weak to do anything else, Edward fell to the floor in a heap of tattooed limbs and dark clothing. The muscles in his back could be seen through his thin t-shirt as he heaved and hiccuped life back into his lungs, head hung forward and spluttering coughs for the oxygen he was temporarily starved of.

While the more abled boy paced a little, not taking his eyes off the other one doubled over at his feet, just under a minute had passed where nothing was said.

Narrowed and focused on his counterpart, Harry slowed his pace and carefully ciphered Edward’s breathing pattern, the way it was evening out nicely, regaining his strength. He paused and balled his fists at his side, willing himself to stay put and not lunge further for him. 

“Why did you tell them what I did to Tockwell?”

“ _What…_ ”

“You told them exactly what I did, punch for punch, missing very few details,” Harry spat his words, teeth gritted, “how could you-,”

“-Because you did Harry.” Edward held out a hand to stop Harry’s sudden start, fists clenched harder at his side so very ready for round two, “Take one more step and I swear to the power below I’ll break those fingers.” 

Edward was looking at him now though. Green meeting green in a matched glare.

“Some might say, you wanted this.”

Harry was livid for sure, anger not sobered enough to back down entirely but familiar enough with Edward’s capability that he wasn’t going to push his luck. He simmered on the spot, lowering his head a snip as a sign of resignation but other than that moved not an inch. Edward hadn’t finished.

“Let’s rewind shall we?” He was standing, those long legs pulling the rest of his body into alignment as he met his Brother, eye to eye, chest to chest, “To a few moments before I had to break down that door, I told you there’d be no apologies, did I or did I not?”

“Don’t fucking patronise-"

“ _Did I_ , or did I _not_?”

Harry’s nostrils flared, reining in his presidential urges as he nodded his head once.

“So,” Edward pulled at the front of his shirt, picking off a piece of lint, “please explain what that means to us.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Answer the question.” 

Edward had found himself. Shoulders squaring as he took a step forward, challenging his Brother, a small part of himself wishing him to accept, the part of him that was really thriving off of this. 

“No fatalities.”

“And?”

“No broken bones.”

“ _And?_ ”

Harry sighed, a bruised knuckle cracking from the tension, “…follow your orders.”

Edward nodded on another step forward, rubbing his sore neck where he knew a pattern painted by fingers yielding strength equal to his would be, probably turning an alarming shade of red. He lingered over a particularly sore spot for a second, where said fingertips had dug in the hardest and his eyes flickered. 

“You failed two out of three, narrowly avoiding crossing that third. All because of your disobedience.” 

“ _Disobe_ \- Edward you do not tell me what I can and cannot do-”

“- no listen that is _exactly_ , what I do you fucking imbecile,” Edward’s voice thundered over the top of his twin’s, regaining the control he was close to losing before, driven by that fact alone to not let it happen again, “exactly what Mother and Father make me do, what they _expect_ me to do, ever since we found out about you, ever since that first appointment where the psych told me I was going to have to play the role of big Brother instead of equal-“

Harry looked away, swallowing that aggravating lump in his throat being brought to the surface from his Brother’s words. There was no chance in Hell he could hold that stare, all these truths rang too close to home, shaved away pieces of his soul every time he had to hear them. 

“-that I am not and never will be normal because of you, to be able to have a normal childhood because of you. Why do you think you have to have a guardian everywhere you go Harry? Mrs Bundin when you’re at school, Zayn at private tutoring and me. _Me,_ every other damn time.”

Harry turned his back to Edward, his voice washing over from behind breaking down the very resistance he’d built up over the past few days. All the tricks his mind had played on him, his familiar demons toying with his imagination on why Edward would betray him like this, making him bitter, making him want to _cause pain_ \- now crumbled, realising he’d done enough of that already. 

Edward’s footsteps entered his space, he could smell his cologne, not a far difference from his own. There was a slow sigh and a pregnant pause before his name was sounded on a gravelly pitch, more so than usual because of his battered throat from the attack. Because of him. Always because of him. 

“Harry.” 

The tears burned, the emotion behind them crippling his resolve. One after the other peaked and fell down his cheeks, silently, but Edward knew they were there.

“Harry, turn around.”

He closed his eyes, pressing quivering lips, wet and bitten raw into a straight line as he sniffed and bowed his head. 

Edward waited patiently. 

And after a small sniffle later, he straightens up and ran his hands over his face quickly. He turned around, jaw clenched, chin raised. The trembling lip ruined the effect that he aimed for though and Edward shook his head.

“When will you learn pup?” 

The elder raised his hand to trace the line of a fresh tear and wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, a touch that was rare and soft on the boy.

“I just,” Harry looked to the floor again, feeling the pathetic waver in his voice, “- why did you have to tell them? When you heard they had a warrant for my arrest, why would you tell them exactly what I did instead of, i-instead of lessening the blow?”

Harry wanted to be defiant, always set out with a sure validation for his emotion, for his anger, but ended up defeated every single time. He stood with his hands on his hips, a huge inhale of breath hiccuping in his chest, stuttering on the way back out. 

“You know why. I just told you why.”

“But-“

“But nothing.” Edward’s voice edged towards the dangerous again, instantly biting it back after seeng the frown twitching on Harry’s brow, “You can’t expect me to lie about something like this. You could’ve killed him. You do know that?”

Long fingers grappled Harry’s chin in a gentle hold, light like smoke but just as suffocating when they made him look him in the eye.

“I do.”

Edward nodded, “You need to be shocked like this sometimes, brought back into line for your actions. It hurts of course it fucking hurts - for all of us. But if that’s what it takes to make you realise what you did was unacceptable then, I’m going to do nothing to stop it.”

Edward had said it before and he’ll continue to say it. However many times it takes, when it comes to situations like these, for the message to keep a steady undertone to their relationship; to make it all work: “I only want what’s best for you. We all do.”

Harry’s lips twitched, not from his sobering sobs, but from being on the cusp of saying something. His bloodshot eyes flicking between the much clearer, but impeccably identical set before him. 

“Have you spoken to Louis?”

Shit. 

Edward wasn’t expecting that. The fact he’d brought Louis home with him and said boy was currently waiting for him in his bedroom had been dislodged from his memory somewhere along the way and he fought for words. 

“I… don’t think you should be asking me that.”

“Edward please,” Harry rubbed his forefinger and thumb into his eyes a little painfully. He knew he’d get this response, he had suspicions Edward was starting to grow a weird protective shield over him and wouldn’t give up information easily. 

“He’s not your priority right now.”

“He has _always_ been, my priority, Edward.” 

Edward also knew, that this was never going to be easy. He shook his head and pointed a finger at him as he started to walk away, back the way Harry had came, “You need to forget about him for a little bit. Have you taken your medication?”

“Just tell me- I need to know if he’s safe, if he’s well- he, he saw me get arrested Edward.”

Edward was thankful Harry couldn’t see the devilish curve to his lips as he led them through the corridor to the first kitchen, dampening it when he turned and came to a stop in front of the fridge.

“He did?” 

Harry had followed closely and stepped back to avoid being struck by the large chrome door as Edward took out two bottles of water and a bowl of pomegranate seeds. 

“Yeah…” Harry recalled the look on Louis’ face, his precious face, “he was so confused, all I wanted was to do was…”

He drifted off when he caught Edward’s quirked eyebrow.

“-I just need to know he’s okay. I know I can’t do anything right now, I know that, I do I just,” He knew he was rambling, but when it came to Louis everything merged and made no sense but his focus was never clearer, his feelings never truer, “tell me he’s alright.”

Edward let the door close on a muffled bang, holding out a bottle for Harry whilst holding the punnet of seeds and the other bottle in one hand. He’d stared at him since they came in the kitchen and could see the desperation in his face. Such sharp features managing to look so gooey and feathered when Louis was touched on in any which way.

“Yes.” Was all he said, until he thought better of it. “From what I’ve heard off Bundin when I swung by the other day, she mentioned him and said he was doing fine, completed all his exams and everything.”

Harry nodded, the bottle cap being twisted off and his sigh the only sound filling the spacious room as he took a long swig. 

Edward tore his eyes away from watching the liquid ebb in the clear bottle and pulled at the freezer door next to him, fingers trailing down to the drawer he normally would avoid, to collect an item he absolutely despised. 

“Thanks, are you…” Harry trailed off as he turned his attention towards the sound of the front door opening and closing again.

“Am I what?” Edward snapped, subsequently regaining Harry’s full focus.

“Are you- wait, that’s mine.” 

Harry pointed a long finger, referring to the unopened tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream in Edward’s possession. 

Edward was about to respond when he got cut off by his Mother’s voice filtering through from the end of the corridor, calling out for Harry. Both boys turned towards the soothing sound, the feminine softness that they found sanctuary in by nature. 

“ _You didn’t answer my question_ ,” Edward seized the distracted moment to dodge Harry’s, whispering into their personal space with the few seconds they had before their Mother would appear around the corner.

Harry turned around, a curiously soft pout on his cherry red lips.

“ _Medication?_ ”

Harry nodded, sniffing softly. 

“ _Promise?_ ”

“Promise.”

“Ah there you both are, Edward dear I thought you’d be home much later.” Her voice was warm, her scent safe and familiar, like christmas morning in a living breathing person, “Is everything alright?”

But her smile wasn’t genuine and it made Harry’s chest tighten, knowing it wouldn’t take long for her to notice the markings on Edward’s neck, knowing she was expecting something to have gone down anyway from her instant questioning. Knowing _him_ , all too well. 

“Yeah,” Edward answered for him, a small smile and nod as he shut the freezer door, “I was just telling him how much Mrs Bundin was concerned about him, passing on her love.”

He looked at Harry, signalling something that rendered Harry speechless as he casually made a path around the island, collecting a spoon on the way and towards their Mother, who was talking about how all the teachers were probably very worried and extremely concerned about his well being. 

“Yeah she said. Well, he’s been waiting to talk to you anyway, I’m a little burnt out so I’m going to watch a movie - hopefully fall asleep,” Edward landed a swift kiss to her cheek, which she hummed into and turned to watch him leave as he threw Harry a wink. 

Harry didn’t know what made him want to cry more; the fact he’d saved his arse and escaped before she could see the marking on his neck or the fact he was taking his favourite ice cream with him.

 

*

 

Edward cleared his throat and Louis literally threw the book over his shoulder, turning with raised eyebrows and a spotless expression towards the sound. 

It was hard not to laugh, but Edward just about managed it with a smirk playing on his lips, closing the door behind himself with a swift kick, his hands being otherwise occupied.

“I- is everything er,” Louis straightened up, suddenly feeling less comfortable, running his hand over the patch of bedding he’d crinkled - even though the bed was un made - with his occupancy, “what did he say?”

Edward took all of this in while appearing to have noticed nothing, striding over to the large oak desk directly adjacent to the foot of his bed to dump the things. He paused with his back to the boy for a stretched out moment, taking time to pleasantly note how Louis had already made his mark on the place - this being due to his belongings now lined up and arranged in size order. Stray pens, the precision steel ruler, his small collection of paperweights and stacks of notepads were now expertly organised next to his Mac.

Not only that, but his unmistakably sweet aroma had infiltrated the room too. He picked up on it before he even got outside the door.

“He was mad at me for telling the authorities and on extension, his therapist,” Edward turned around, leaning back onto the desk and crossing his arms across his torso, “the truth. Like I said, he gets confused and often jumps to conclusions before logical reasoning has time to catch up.”

It wasn’t that Louis wasn’t listening, because he was, intently. But he was also staring very intently, having noticed something that was pulling at his chest.

Edward caught it and cocked his head.

“Sorry I took so long I just…”

Louis had started to squint and Edward stopped mid sentence, a little thrown off by the odd behaviour.

“ _Holy shit._ ” 

Louis had never approached Edward with speed before, always seeming to do precisely the opposite up until now. It wasn’t until a small hand came up to inspect his neck that he realised what had lured such a studious gaze. 

“Oh, right.” Edward could roll his eyes, but didn’t want to seem rude. A peculiar out of character decision. So he placed his hand over Louis’ inquisitive one, removing his effort to inspect the damage further, lacing their fingers together instead and smiling a little wider when Louis didn’t try to resist. 

He was thankful the markings on his wrist were covered by his tattoos. The pain in the sprained ligament was still powerful.

“I saw him, I saw him do that.”

Edward knew that, he remembers seeing a light blue blur atop the staircase when Harry had him slammed against the pillar. He shook his head, stretching his fingers out between Louis’ enjoying how delicate and soft they felt between his larger, callous digits.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t expect that, “Sorry for what princess?”

“Everything.”

“None of this is your fault, there’s nothing you can do.”

“I could’ve stepped in and tried to stop him from hurting y-"

“Fuck no,” Edward scolded, looking at Louis with urgency, “no, don’t ever think twice about doing that. That would make it inconsolably worse.”

“But he wouldn’t hurt me, he would’ve stopped if he saw me.”

Edward chewed the inside of his cheek, deliberately pausing before his response, “Perhaps.”

Louis looked up at him, eyes so wide and so genuine that Edward had to squeeze his paws back around Louis’ bony fingers again just so he had something to anchor him to the spot in fear he may lose it there and then, take what isn’t his.

“But either way, it doesn’t matter. I can handle the brawn of my Brother, you mustn’t worry.” Their appendages were disconnected and Edward made his way around Louis, careful not to touch him but leaving barely enough space for it to be a narrow miss, “Let’s forget about it, we’re supposed to be _hanging_. Getting to know each other. Breaking the ice. Building a bond. Discovering our overlapping interests. Realising we’re each other’s long lost soul sisters.”

“You’re a walking cliche.” Louis watched him saunter over to his bed, realising at this point how he hadn’t seen him in any other shade other than black or grey. 

“I’m a walking orgasm.”

“Give me strength.”

Edward paused, staring at something on his bed before he turned around and looked at Louis with a serious expression, “I’ll give you something boy.”

Louis clicked his fingers and pointed at him, mockingly, winking.

“Louis sweetheart, light of my life, you were looking at my Physics notebook?” Now however, he did laugh, falling onto his bed on a huff, weirdly endeared but also downright puzzled as to his choice of inspection. 

“Yeah.” Louis shrugged, like it was obvious. 

Edward turned the book over in his hand, just to make sure. Still in disbelief.

“Why?” 

Louis swung his arms around, looking younger than his years with a small pout and wide eyes, that sweater that Edward anchored for riding up to reveal the smooth skin at his stomach, “I wanted to see your take on the rigid bodies theory, spinning tops.”

Edward laughed and Louis stopped swinging his arms, asking him what he found so hilarious as he came to sit by Edward on the King size bed again, the charcoal sheets crumpling under his weight. 

“You discarded it like it was a hot stone when you saw me, I was at least expecting it to be something a little more personal like my journal or a photo album or something.”

Louis’ eyes bulged and he leant forward a little, tilting his head to get Edward to look at him before he spoke. 

“You have a diary?”

“ _Journal._ ”

“Same thing.”

“It’s entirely more masculine and formal.”

A sharp laugh erupted from Louis and he clapped a hand over his mouth, side eyeing Edward as he desperately tried to muffle his amusement. 

“I might beat you to death with it if you don’t stop laughing.”

“Whatever,” Louis giggled, bringing a finger up to poke the dimple on Edward’s cheek, “you undercover sap you.”

“Why do you presume I write my feelings down? It could be a collection of government encryptions. Maybe my ever evolving hit list? I could be plotting mass murders for all you know,” Edward caught his finger and stopped it’s playful teasing, “I may even be plotting yours.”

Louis bit his lip on another giggle, covering his tummy from the pleasant ache it started to evoke, “Okay Edward, okay. But just know, you’ve lost any scary edge you had.”

“I scare you?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“-well you kind of did.”

“I said you had an _edge_ -“

“A scary one.”

“Oh shut up, just because you twilight as a poet don’t try and change topics.”

“I see your short temper is peaking again,” Edward pointed his index finger, with the hand that still encased Louis’, “I understand, it’s about the only thing that _can_ peak on a person of your stat-”

Louis launched himself onto the boy, knocking him over onto his back and straddled him efficiently. Something someone with longer and more lanky limbs would’ve found much less easier to achieve, in a far less elegant manner. 

“Enough,” Louis had ripped the notebook out of Edward’s hands and thwacked him around the head with it softly, but hard enough to be teetering on playful, his chocolate hue hair all he could see as Edward brought up two hands to guard his face, “with the short jokes.”

Edward’s giggle was nothing like Louis’. It allowed his usual sombre tone to go up a pitch but there was still something low and dragging about it, like an old vinyl being played on a slower rate. He dropped the book and fought Edward’s hands that were trying to grab his wrists, Louis’ shouts of laughter carrying through the room as he were quickly overpowered - for the umpteenth time - and his arms were secured either side of Edward’s face, making sure Louis had to lean forward. 

“ _Shhh -sh!_ ” 

Louis pulled a face, something that was surely meant to be unattractive but Edward found worryingly cute.

“Who’re you shushing?”

“You, idiot. You’re so loud did you forget you’re not meant to be here?”

“Oh right sorry I forgot you lived in a shack.”

The pinch to his wrist made Louis hiss.

“Your voice will travel.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m not _that_ loud.” Louis tried to pull up, but Edward wouldn’t allow it, hands tightening around his slim joints pinning him in the position. 

“You can be as loud as you want when we’re alone, but until then.” 

Louis’ lips parted, brain scrambling for something to say.

Edward was satisfied that the insinuation was received. He rotated his closed fists around Louis’ wrists, able to feel the hastened pulse against his palms.

“Feels kind of strange being here, when I’m not supposed to be.” Louis’ filter had dissolved. 

“Yeah?” Edward frowned.

“Not in a bad way, well kind of, with the Harry thing…” Louis trailed off not wanting to think too much on it, kind of wanting to string out this moment, whatever it was that was building inside him - particularly in his lower stomach - and for once finding himself feeling less of a victim to those eyes but more intrigued by where they could take him, “feels a bit exciting.”

Edward didn’t know what to do. 

Knew what he _wanted_ to do, his mind was very kindly offering up obscene visuals of that, but found himself faltering with the reality. 

Normally, if he wanted someone - which wasn’t often, he had a refined taste and it was more him falling prey to other’s fantasies than the other way around - he wasted no time with the trimmings and headed straight for the main. Not that he rushes things, he enjoys the chase, the feeling of satisfaction, the thrilling addition to his ego when he had a boy that had been teasing him for weeks call out his name, whimper and writhe and beg as he pounded him into whatever surface they had succumbed to. But it was never this crucial, things never felt so important before. It was always just _sex_.

Louis was different. And Edward was yet to know if there were even a chase to be executed, never mind the rest. 

“Am I dealing with a little exhibitionist?”

The word _little_ did things to Louis, things that before would have his feathers ruffled royally, but now had his insides twisting as that was exactly how he felt in Edward’s company. 

“You can’t deny it’s a little thrilling though, knowing that we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Edward sat up, making Louis fall back on his haunches and shuffle a little. He braced his hands on Edward’s rounded shoulders, scrunching the material there into loose fists as he tried not to think about how maybe they’d been sat in this position for too long. How inappropriate it was and how he were feeling about as far from uncomfortable as one could get. 

Edward hummed again, eyes that looked like they were searching for any signs, any _clue_ , not leaving his own for even a second, “Doing what?”

The struggle to not make a point of looking at their connected bodies was pressing. 

“Just, you know… me being here.”

“This is bringing out a naughty side to you that I think I’m going to enjoy.” 

Louis were a novice to this segment of himself too. 

“I’m not, naughty.”

Edward didn’t move, only the gentle movement of his chest reminding Louis that he too was _human_. Just a guy. Two crippling eyes and a heartbeat. A person. With inked biceps, ostentatiously protruding and sharp in their position holding his torso upright at present. Just another _stupid_ , boy. “Oh, you are.” 

Louis wasn’t prepared to feel like this. He thought he was used to being an object of desire for many, but never had he felt so engaged before, so seduced by someone who what felt like a second ago he utterly despised.

No. This wasn’t going to happen. Not here. Especially not after everything. 

“Was that ice cream I saw earlier?”

He changed the subject, concerned not with being smooth or tactile about any of it. Instead wanting to make it very clear that whatever _that_ was, was dropped as of now. Whether it was to be picked up at a later date was a different matter. 

But one look at Edward as he turned back from eyeing up the large tub over on the desk, answered that for him.

Of course it was. 

“M’hm.” 

Edward, being the more experienced one in all things of such a nature, knew exactly what all this tension meant and was planning on using its revealing assets to his advantage. He bumped Louis’ body forward with a light tap of his knees on Louis’ back so he fell into his torso and immediately hoisted him up by his thighs, earning him a delightful gasp from the near weightless boy.

“You want some?”

Louis’ cheeks flushed, the weird ache in his stomach curling into his naval. 

He nodded, not entirely trusting his mouth, fingertips digging a little into his own elbows as he clung around Edward’s neck, faces a couple of hot inches away. Like this, the rumble that could usually only be heard, was felt, as Edward spoke.

“Okay.”

He didn’t think he was ever going to get used to the feeling of having Louis’ delicious legs wrapped around him like this, even though it’s happened three times now. The first was unfortunate, the second was playful and this was balancing on being obscene, with its begging connotations screaming to be acknowledged. Each time it felt like an honour, an addiction that was ready and tempting. 

“Anything for you sweet pea,” Edward walked over with Louis wrapped around his upper body, musing on how no, there was definitely, absolutely no way that having this human delicacy being in his hold like this, would ever lose its novelty.

 

 

*

 

He woke with a start. Convinced he hadn’t even slept, forgotten drifting off at all. He just kind of, awoke. A jolt to his chest that was working its way into his diaphragm, dripping a steady current, a weird vibrating sensation settling somewhere around his middle that had popped his subconscious bubble and now well, here he was. 

There was an ache more southwardly - his toes. He stretched his legs, feeling soft sheets stir along with him, getting caught around his ankles as he enjoyed the little cracks in his smallest joints. 

Blinking his eyes open only then, did he sense the faint flicker of an artificial light coming from the bottom of the bed. 

A four poster bed. 

A television that wasn’t his, playing the end credits to a film he doesn’t recognise that he couldn’t remember watching.

Being a self confessed drama queen he stared at the screen and automatically came to two possible conclusions; he has amnesia or he was part of a real life inception. There was no other possible, logical, sensible reasoning. This was it. His heart was doing a strange palpitating thing in his chest, body frozen to the spot as his brain tried to fill in the blanks. But just when he feared the worse and just as the credits stopped rolling, there was a heavy shifting behind and _beneath_ him. 

He weren’t alone. 

Looking to the movement peeking into his peripherals, he saw a hand. At least that’s what he thought it was in the murky light. 

_Oh._

How could he have forgotten? 

The urge to slap himself unconscious was going to have to wait until later. Which immediately brought on his next thought, exactly how late was it already? The room was dark now, the only light being the glare from the television and it was mid evening already when they’d begun watching it.

Brilliant. He was stranded.

Now Louis was probably the most awake he’d been in his entire life and his memory was thankfully fully intact, he felt ashamed about his brief check that his _clothing_ was too, flicking his eyes down and seeing he still had his black skinnies on, rolled up, and he could already feel the fabric of his sweater riding up his stomach so, _all good_.

He pushed up when the stirring happened again, followed by a soft grunt and couldn’t help but turn to his sleeping buddy’s direction. 

Was it weird he was curious to see what Edward looked like when he slept? Probably. But he must know if there was at least one physical flaw to this preposterous person. He wanted something, _anything_ to just not fall nicely for once. Something he could privately tally as a fault in Edward for thus far, he’d failed to find one.

Louis mouthed a slow and silent _‘fuck you’_ though, as his vision adjusted to the light properly and he could see just how ineptly perfect he looked as he dozed, head angled away from Louis, one arm still stretched out for Louis to lay on. He was all sharp edges from this angle. 

Beautiful, but deadly. 

On another roll of his eyes - he feared they’d got lost in the back of his skull one day - he brushed off how dramatic he was. The past minute or so proving this to be so more than ever.

A buzzing seared the air, effectively ruining the weirdly calm moment, vibration wracking through the mattress beneath them and Louis nearly jumped out his skin. 

“ _Oh g-_ ” Louis flapped, hands patting down the bed to find the offensive item.

He was on all fours, trying to be quick and quiet in all the wrong ways and ended up kneeing Edward at some point, hands roaming around the sheets feeling for that stupid phone when he let the mild panic get the better of him and fell _off_ the bed altogether. 

He landed on the plush carpet with a hollow thud and hissed a curse at the unfortunate angle. Cradling his knee he rolled onto his back, rubbing a thumb over the joint.

His eyes pinged open when he couldn’t hear that wretched vibration.

“Liam.”

The pain was forgotten and Louis shot up instantly, head poking up at the side of the mattress to see Edward lounging leisurely, propped up on one arm and holding his mobile screen outwards for Louis to see.

Louis squinted away from the harsh light because yes, Liam’s caller ID lit up the room like a fucking christmas tree. Of course it would be Liam to have the best timing on this God given earth.

“You know, jumping face first off the bed s’little extreme,” Louis wasn’t going to admit how he wanted to bottle up that ‘morning’ voice, every word catching on a proverbial thorn making it _impossibly_ deeper, “if you didn’t want t’talk to him there’s this little red button here that h-”

“-Yes okay, many thanks,” Louis hooked his chin over the edge of the mattress and held out his hand, making a grabby motion to which Edward instantly obeyed.

Louis stared at the screen for a moment, settling his thoughts before he tapped the accept button and lifted it to his ear.

“Liam!” He sounded too chipper. Liam would know something was up.

“Five times? Terribly sorry I was in the shower… yeah, yeah sorry about that,” Louis was working against his own light post-sleep rasp to make it all sound as genuine as possible.

He was listening to Liam rabbit on about there being a little get together at Percy’s tomorrow, which was an obvious - even though Liam didn’t think so - and natural Segway for him to question him about what Percy had again _obviously_ informed him about with regards to Louis’ earlier weirdness around Ben.

“I don’t know it got on top of me… yes I know… well there wasn’t much else I could do was there? He doesn’t know and I, well I guess I just panicked, wouldn’t you?” 

There was a looming presence next to Louis’ face then, as he sat with his back against the bed frame, still plonked on the floor with his knees bent. 

He turned to it as he felt a warm gush of air pass his cheek.

Edward.

“… yeah I know, it’s just finding the right time to tell him…”

He couldn’t see it, he didn’t need to. Didn’t need to see the smirk on his face to know it was there. Didn’t need to see the glint in his eye as he could feel them burning into him from the close proximity. Edward had laid flat out on his front and was resting his chin on his crossed arms, hair a dishevelled mess as he just _stared._

Louis frowned, trying so hard to listen to Liam but not really. Not when there was that face next to him. His heavy breath fanning out against his neck. 

He mouthed a ‘ _what_ ’ to him and hummed into the receiver when he thought it was necessary. 

Louis nearly dropped the phone when Edward shuffled a little closer, leaning forward and nearly suffocating him with that cologne that never seems to wear off, Louis already covering the mic of his phone in anticipation.

“I double dare you, to tell Liam where you are.”

_“Louis? Mate are you there?”_

Louis glared at Edward, well, Edward’s silhouette and quickly stammered out a weak, “Y-yeah, sorry, I was- um-,”

“-distracted?” Edward offered kindly from his side.

On the line, Liam was oblivious. 

_How_ he missed the formidable difference in tone of voice was beyond Louis, but he was grateful for his friend’s removed sense of awareness and lightly swatted Edward’s head.

“Sorry I thought I saw a goat.”

No one expected that.

Louis couldn’t offer an explanation as to why. 

Not even when Liam asked, curious as to why there would be a goat around Louis’ house.

“I thought I heard one, outside, just got a little distracted.”

Edward muffled his laughter into the crevice of his folded arms and Louis begged, just for _once_ , for one thing to be unattractive about this boy. Just one thing, that he didn’t have to remind himself not to be charmed by.

But just as Liam transitioned from the goat scandal onto something about what happened in the exam hall, just as Louis thought he were able to focus properly and looked away from the out-grown child on the bed behind him there was a gush of hot air against his cheek again. 

But this time it was closer and Louis felt it at the base of his spine. 

Felt it in the pit of his stomach when there was something warm, damp yet soft pressing against the smooth skin beneath his ear. 

The hot breath curled into his ear, slow and controlled now as lips planted kisses, too soft to be of an effect if it were any other situation, around the area. Tracing a course of attack along the highest point of his jaw to the tip of his ear. 

Edward must know. 

He wouldn’t be doing this so well, so excruciatingly slow, with tactile precision if he didn’t know that this was the act that would bring his walls crumbling. 

Louis’ mind was on those lips. And in his mind, so were his own.

When there was a tongue at his earlobe, Louis had to lower the phone for the _tiny_ bitten moan would’ve transcended tenfold down the line. He hung his head back, onto the mattress, the warmth that he exposed from the line of his neck sparking Edward’s appetite.

“Mmh- Liam?”

A hand, too strong, pulled his hair, demanding a further arch to his neck.

“Sorry to cut you off b-but… uh, I have to go.”

And who was Louis to deny it?

“… D-daisy wants me.”

He should be ashamed he’s used his sister as an excuse.

“Mhm…”

But Edward’s full lips were sucking so hard on his neck, bringing the blood that lay beneath to the surface as his tongue rolled on the tortured skin.

“Y-yeah… I’ll,”

The most intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. 

“-I’ll see you then, _oh_ -kay,”

Edward growled against his neck, Louis wanting to cry from what it was doing to his groin.

“-b- _bye_.”

Louis only realised he’d closed his eyes when those lips had left his neck then. When he opened them to the empty space of darkness before him. 

“And you said you weren’t naughty.”

Edward sounded as wrecked as Louis' neck looked.

Louis’ breathing hitched from the prompt arrival of his arousal, seduced by the pulse of his skin being pulled and bitten into a skilful mouth and turned from his position on the floor to peer up at the parts of Edward he could.

“You need to leave.”

“But, what if I don’t want to?”

He knew he was going to. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he was going to leave this bedroom in the next eight minutes. But the thing was, he also knew he wanted to satisfy a little bit of his curiosity if he dared to challenge Edward Styles this way; wanted to see exactly how he’d react to his now very obvious attraction.

“If you don’t,” The light from the television was highlighting Edward again in the ethereal way it did before, but the areas it chose to promote this time around, were much more bulkier - the long curves to his muscular arms, his strong thighs and another swelling that had formed between them, “then I may be at risk of committing the exact sin I saved you from before.”

There was something extremely sobering about a comment like such, Louis closing his mouth and swallowing his nerve as he pulled his eyes up from that intimidating arousal.

Something also, very honest about it and for that, Louis couldn’t fault him. 

He doubted, really, that he meant it. Not wholly anyway. But the point he was trying to make was gotten across loud and clear.

“You have a way with words Edward, a simple, ‘I won’t be held responsible for my actions’ would’ve been a far vaguer but friendlier response.” 

But Edward wasn't laughing. 

The edge of his cheekbone, the sharp curve to the peak of his jaw was glimmering from the light, the rest of his facial construct much covered by the shadows. 

“Come, I’ll drive you back,” Is all he said, shuffling off the bed and grunting a little from the discomfort in his now too tight pants, “I know you’re safe that way.”

Louis chose to ignore the voice in his head as he watched Edward’s back rummage around in one of his drawers, pulling out a hoody.

"Change into this, you still owe me that sweater."

It was wrong. He was fine.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suck at this updating thing. But woah thank you for all the kudos and comments and feedback, you guys are beautiful. It's interesting though, reading back through everything, how this story is being perceived by different people, how you're looking at my Edward and Harry and their characters and how their relationship/intentions with Lou differ. I'm excited...
> 
> Anyway, next chapter coming soon.

What bothered him the most wasn’t that Edward had snuck him into his family abode like two love struck idiot teenagers in the prime of their rebellion against their folks wishes. Nor was it the fact that said idiot teenager hadn’t contacted him in any which way for three whole days either. 

It was Liam.

And it’s always going to be Liam. 

With his accusatory eyes and his Father like authoritarian approach to all things fun. A walking contradiction as when sober, he oozed sophistication, charm and practiced careful caution, but the minute liquor hits the back of his throat he’s like an elf on Boxing Day. On crack.

“So what’s new?” Liam shuffled to face him as Percy kicked into second gear, pulling out of Louis’ driveway. He being the designated driver for the night as he were still suffering the aftershocks of the ‘I have never’ drinking game shenanigans two nights previous. He’d done a lot of shit in his life. Apparently. 

“You spoke to me yesterday Liam, apart form my underwear, not much.”

Liam set his mouth into a thin line and whilst Percy snorted up front, he appeared to miss the humour. There was that look again in his eyes, the weird lilt to his gaze that made it feel like he was waiting for you to make the next move so he didn’t have to; something that Louis found hovering around the edge of patronising. 

“Okay.” Liam nodded after a while, accepting the sarcasm with a sniff and instead opting for rolling down the window and letting the warm evening air whip through the crack.

Rolling his eyes, Louis caught the end of a curious glare from Percy in the rear view mirror, before he clapped the back of his hand against Liam’s thigh, covered by the darkest indigo denim that clung to his thighs with the stretch of his open legged position. Liam was rarely spotted in second skin jeans, always preferred a more slim fitting pant believing it left more room for his vital ‘bits’ to flourish. 

“Hey, why, what’s up?”

It was obvious something was bothering him, as he pursed his lips instead of replying straight away.

“Nothing mate,” He was busy pretending there was something interesting happening on the vast empty fields they were currently thundering past at 85mph, “Nothing at all.”

It wasn’t just the way he replied and didn’t even bother looking at Louis to reply, not the way he was adopting a lightly indignant tone, light enough, but obvious. It was the _way_ he was doing it. He was sulking.

“Are you sure you seem a-”

“-Percy how far away is the theatre once we collect Jake?”

Percy had been pretending not to have been listening all the while, so felt a little awkward when he stuttered out a reply, catching the look on Louis’ face again in the mirror.

“Uh, I um- about five minutes?” He turned a corner a touch too fast, making Louis brace his hand on the middle column, fingertips digging into the leather, “If that.”

“Right,” Louis giggled, hoped his weird nervousness at his friend’s new display didn’t show, “well, whatever it is make sure you snap out of it by the time we get there alright? This is a big night for Lucy and I don’t want it spoiling.”

Liam sighed, looking like Louis was the being the world's biggest inconvenience for just breathing as he sniffed again and kept his eyes planted straight ahead on the road, between the driver and front passenger seat.

“According to you, tonight is a bittersweet affair anyway.” Liam’s tone was loaded with spite and Percy was already cringing from whatever were to follow, “I believe your exact words were, ‘I’d be able to sit back and enjoy her stupid performance much more genuinely if I didn’t have to forgo Concertgebouw,’.”

“Okay no, wait,” Louis was triggered now, “you know I didn’t mean that, I apologised pretty much straight away for even saying such a thing.”

“Still said it.”

“And you also know that I’ve wanted to see that orchestra for years now, and that they’re here for these three days _only_ before they piss off back to Amsterdam,” His hands were flying everywhere as he spoke, “It’s a rare opportunity, something that'll probably never happened again and it meant a lot to me.”

Liam kicked the seat in front of him accidentally as he fidgeted, still avoiding eye contact, before muffling, “More than Lucy clearly.”

Louis cursed and Percy was about to suggest they calm down but Louis got in first:

“Just because you’re high strung on something right now don’t take it out on me.” 

 

*

 

After a silent thirteen minute car ride to Jake’s house - an oblivious Jake and an agonising ten minute ride to the theatre - and two hours of a performance later, Liam was still pissed.

And Louis was still non the wiser as to why.

Something had crawled into his core and settled in stubbornly though, as all night, Liam made a crystal clear point of engaging in conversation with everyone but Louis. Whether it be idle chit chat or a comment here and there throughout Lucy’s faultless performance in _‘The Second Breath’_ he made it glaringly obvious he had no interest in Louis whatsoever. 

But when they were hovering about in the halls half an hour post-show, after majority of the public had left the building, waiting for Lucy to come out so they could congratulate her properly, Louis had had enough. 

It were him and Liam alone. The other two had gone to the toilet about eleven minutes ago. So, longer than average for lavatory duties but that’s not what was clinching Louis. It was the fact Liam was now on his seventh poster, surveying every detail on the display to keep from having to strike up a conversation.

“You hate Mozart.”

Liam barely glanced to his left at the soft interruption that came in the form of Louis’ mellow voice.

“I hate ballet too yet, here we are.”

“Things you do for friends eh?”

Liam scoffed, “I’m surprised you’re familiar with the word.”

Okay brilliant. The resolve was crumbling.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard.”

“Oh Liam for heaven’s sake,” Louis tugged on his suit jacket, forcing him to whip around, “just stop, okay? I can max out when it comes to dramatics for the both of us so just _stop_. What on earth is the matter with you?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“About what?”

“About being in a relationship.”

Okay.

Okay?

Last thing Louis was expecting but, okay.

“I, Liam I am not in a relationship.”

“Okay. Okay fine, cool.” Liam nodded, already turning back to the poster. 

Louis propelled himself in front of him and scowled. Well, did the best job he could at looking serious and miffed when he had to look _up_ at someone.

“For fucks' sake what are you talking about I am not in a relationship,” He leant in a little, pulled Liam’s face back down to look at him when he made a point of looking behind him, “where has this even come from?”

“We’re best friends. And I thought best friends tell each other every thing. Call me sappy, call me old school but I thought that’s the way it worked.”

“Liam…” He wasn’t angry, just baffled, “I _am_ telling you everything.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Liam had started whisper shouting and Louis was unsure as to who he was wanting to keep from hearing exactly, “I heard you the other night on-“

The sound of a sizeable group of people laughing bounced through the large entrance hall and they both looked over to see a singular male had opened the side door, allowing the ruckus to come through, instead of entering through the rotating ones, making for an audible bang when it closed with force.

“Um…” Liam was still looking, licking his lips. Perhaps trying to get back to what he was saying.

But the thing was, he couldn’t.

Liam, a heterosexual male, history void of even the glint of temptation towards experimentation with those of the same sex, seem to be struck dumb by this boy’s entrance. Louis side eyed the stranger, receiving many glances from sporadic human strays and Liam, who looked like he had tunnel vision, mouth hung open on a few mute vowels as his eyes kept sweeping up and down the boy’s form.

His legs were long, sheathed in the blackest jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt that hung low around his clavicle, two prominent collar bones just as angular as the line of his stubbly jaw. 

“Liam?” Louis almost felt rude, interrupting something that looked very much to what Louis thought could be a lucid wet dream.

“Hm…” A few seconds in, he caught himself and blinked twice, “Yea’ what?”

He honest-to-God tried his best not to smile.

“Are you,” Turns out his best wasn’t good enough, “alright there?”

The frown he gave only caused his shit eating grin to transcend into a glittering giggle, biting his lip from the extent of his grin as if he were afraid he may split his face from too much amusement. 

“I- what? What’s so funny?” Liam was still frowning, but in-between a couple of quick glances North of Louis, probably checking the mystery boy was still there.

“Louis.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis stood with his hand resting on his stomach, hung his head to the side, “sorry, I just, you looked like-;”

“-Louis, turn around.”

He gave him a curious look but obeyed anyway, turning his upper body to see what Liam was surveying with such a startled expression. He got his answer in the form of an approaching mystery come Liam’s secretly destined future beau making a bee line for him. He even made a swift pace look effortless.

“Hi, is it- Louis? Louis Tomlinson?” The accent was heavy, broad. Northern. Voice thick but quiet.

“Who’s asking?” Louis turned fully, self consciously almost, this boy was even more stunning up close. Everything about him was dark and smooth, from his unfairly long eyelashes to his glistening brown eyes.

“Zayn.” A hand was held out for him to take, which Louis did imminently, risking a quick glance in Liam’s direction when Zayn let go and motioned behind himself, “I’m here with someone who would like to talk to you, ’s just outside.”

If Louis were willing to overlook the lack of a second name upon introduction, fine. But this was something he was going to have to probe.

“What d’you mean? Who’s _someone_? And,” Louis stared outside onto the foyer where there were two men in smart attire opening the doors for a couple who had just walked in dressed to the nine’s, “why can’t they come to me themselves?”

“Due to regulations they’re restricted to, they’re not allowed to enter any public building without being accompanied.” 

Both Louis and Liam raised their eyebrows at Zayn then.

“Other than me.” He quickly corrected, gaze lingering on Liam a second longer than was necessary before blinking lazily back to the shorter boy. “Actually, him being here right now is bending the rules but he’s desperate so.”

His accent made everything he said sound, although it was clearly a serious matter, very haphazard.

“Well, sorry Zayn, but he doesn’t sound like someone I wa…”

Several things happened then. 

The sound of Lucy’s voice came fluttering from the far right behind them, her laughter merging with the crackled rumble of Percy’s voice mocking a voice only making her amusement grow. A group of other actors immediately followed, the chorus of their varying levels of conversation and cheering all adding to the muffled mess that was becoming Louis’ auditory senses. Somewhere to his right, an arm brushed past him. Liam’s. He were shaking hands with Zayn and Zayn was standing a little closer to him now and slightly to the side, allowing Louis a clear line of sight to the outdoors.

He couldn’t hear anything that was being said. The only voice that he could decipher were his own. Well, he thought it was his. That little voice that talks to you every so often, the voice you use as you read, as your subconscious takes the reins. It was slowly mutating to that which he couldn’t place. It were replaying a conversation he had days ago, about a certain boy, about laws and conditions. All legal jargon and things Louis didn’t realise he’d paid that much attention to until now.

The blackness of the night sky through the glass doors petrified him. He suddenly felt inordinately aware of the significance of his position. How those doors where keeping him on the safe side, on dry land. But the second he steps from under the extravagance of the glimmering ceiling lights of the grand interior foyer, through the gold trimmed doors and onto the patio and past the pillars, he were on his own. At full and very real risk of drowning in green eyes and a mind that had no anchor.

“ _Harry_ …”

Finding his own tongue was quite by accident, meaning to say it to himself rather than out loud. But the voices that surround came back to him too. 

Along with a neck breaking speed glance from Zayn as his eyes widened and he dropped his hand from Liam’s shoulder.

“What did you just say?”

He wasn’t meaning to be rude, but that voice in his head was driving him as he surged towards the rotating doors, two hands pushing hard on the glass to allow his body to keep up with the speed of his mind.

Louis didn’t realise he’d been jogging, until he slowed at the top of the concrete steps, one foot bracing itself before the other as he took them at a steady pace while his eyes searched the row of prestigious vehicles lined outside the entrance, looking for even a glimmer of the personified storm brewing. 

He didn’t need to look far however, when the door to a car parked five or six spaces away slammed shut and a tall, spider legged male stepped around the front. Rolls Royce Phantom. Black, of course. Tinted windows and every bit as imposing as the person stepping up from it’s parked position.

His phone started to buzz in his pocket, but he ignored it. 

His body wanted to go no more, it’s not too late to turn around and immerse oneself in the sweet sanctuary he’d shortly fled. Safe and excused. But that voice was dancing with devil, holding the balls of several men, several inches taller and he hopped down the last stretch. 

He flattened out the end of his white shirt when he reached the pavement, swallowing an absurd amount of times, tongue sliding against the roof of his mouth, heart hammering out a marathon in his chest, mind whirring with each step the older boy took, the reality of _all_ of this only just settling into whatever remnants of logical wiring still in tact.

“I didn’t think you’d come out.”

Louis took a final breath, tipping his chin a little. 

“What do you want, Harry?”

For an alarming moment, Louis’ eyes deceived him. 

It was Harry alright, but, not the one he were exactly used to. His hair wasn’t neat and arranged and the colour palette of neutral tones and whites had been scrapped completely. In all honesty, he looked as if he’d raided Edward’s wardrobe; dressed in dark skinny jeans and a tattered navy t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal - and this was probably the most alarming besides the hair - the edge of a tattoo, high on his right bicep. 

How did he miss that at his party?

“Firstly, I would like to apologise to you, again.” Harry took a step forward, a final one. Something that he looked like he were torn between doing as if it were going to make or break something, “It’s unfortunate that I find myself doing that much too often as of recent.”

Louis lowered his chin now, looking up at him through wide eyes. He didn’t talk, just waited for him to continue.

“You shouldn’t have had to see what you did that day.” 

“No one should have.” Louis surprised himself with his clipped response.

“You’re absolutely right.” 

Harry looked up from the ground to the small crowd that had gathered atop the steps, breaking off a tiny bit of light that was emitted and casting a shadow on the ground. 

Louis didn’t need to look to know who it were.

“Have you apologised to everyone else?” 

“I don’t understand.” Harry’s brow twitched, lips becoming their fullest as they relaxed into a soft pout.

“I’m not the only one you should be apologising to am I?” 

Louis couldn’t get the image of Edward’s purple pigmented torso out of his head, the sound of his skull cracking against the pillar with Harry’s hands around his neck. 

Harry shuffled his feet, clearing his throat. 

“If you mean Ryan-”

“-Doesn’t matter.” Louis held up a hand, able to stop Harry mid sentence, “Is that it then?” 

And although his attitude may reek of confidence and a serious lack of patience when it came to all things Harry, inside, he were a wreck. He felt like his heart was a palpitation away from totalling. 

“Please, Louis, would you allow me to make it up to you?”

“You can’t,” Louis shifted his gaze to the movement on the steps besides him, looking up at Jake and Liam slowly descending the steps looking at Harry the entire way, “-I mean, you don’t need to make anything up to me. I’m not the person you need to be putting all this energy into.”

He needed to wrap this up. 

If Liam hadn’t let Jake or anyone else into their little secret about what happened that night at his party, then Liam was still the only one who knew why the Styles Brothers were such a sensitive topic around him. 

“I appreciate I’m not your favourite person, I can’t blame anyone but myself. But for my sake, so I know I’ve righted the wrongs that I can, even by the slightest, please accept my offer of consolidation.” 

Louis sighed, chewing the inside of his cheek as he felt a warm hand between his shoulder blades and the presence of Jake at his other side, looking at him as if to ask what’s going on. 

Every bone in Louis’ body stiffened when Harry reached for something in his back pocket, pulling something slim and paper like out and tapping it gently with his other fingers and he looked at Louis for a beat,

“Two tickets, stalls, tomorrow night at 7:30.” He held out a long arm, Louis looking to that tattoo that had become momentarily more visible with the stretch, before hesitantly retrieving the item. 

Turning them over in his hands he nearly choked

“ _No_ …oh my goodness- these are,” Louis stared at the two pieces of embossed card in his hands, which were shaking a little now, spying the hologram in the light, “this is…”

Harry smiled. It was bitten, white teeth clamping down on his lower lip as he bathed in Louis’ reaction. 

“I don’t get it.” 

Jake stuck his bottom lip out, completely out of the loop. He couldn’t see the tickets and had no idea why Harry Styles, was stood there in front of one of his closest friends looking so _not_ like Harry Styles, with the hair and the clothes and... well looking like Louis was the only thing keeping him up right.

Louis held up the tickets in the full yellow light coming down from the foyer, Liam peering over his shoulder to get a look at what had gotten Louis so shook. He gasped when he saw the lettering.

“ _How the fuck did you_ …” Once he saw them, Liam couldn’t help his mouth, snatching the tickets right out of Louis’ possession to hold them up to the light himself only to then confirm that they were in fact the real deal, “these were sold out everywhere. All three shows. Gone.”

“I take no credit for it, my Father is close friends with the chief executive of the theatre who managed to settle two of the best seats in the house.”

“Fucking impossible.” 

Louis elbowed Liam in his ribcage lightly, hoping he’d quit the language. 

Zayn had been loitering up ahead with the others all this time and in all honesty, Louis had forgotten about him. But suddenly he was here, jogging down the steps and stubbing out the end of a cigarette with his toe as he stalked up to Harry’s side.

Louis looked back to Harry, who nodded to whatever Zayn just whispered in his ear and headed off towards the car. He had his hands clasped behind his back. There was an unsure look of anticipation on his face, almost not allowing himself to be too happy too soon. Louis hadn’t accepted yet. He still had to say yes.

There was nothing more he wanted than him to say yes. 

Nothing.

“So, you, me and Concertgebouw. Do you accept?” 

Liam looked at Harry, still holding the tickets. Then to Louis, still staring at Harry. 

“No, he doesn’t.”

“I- what?” Louis frowned, turning with a look of horror plastered on his face.

Maybe it was for Liam being an absolute arsehole to him all night and he just wanted to defy him. Maybe it was because he was stubborn and annoying by default and just wanted to piss Liam off, naturally. Perhaps it were a combination of the two, he thought, as he snatched the tickets back and gave him a defiant look.

It had to be, anyway. Because Louis wasn’t willing to accept the third reason. That would mean he was joining the side of the oppressor. Betraying Edward. After everything he’d told him, every part of the personal hell that he calls home life that he’s allowed him an insight to and here he is now, actually _wanting_ to go to a show with the very monster who was the cause of it all. 

Edward would understand. If he were to deny Harry this, it might back fire and he couldn't live with himself if he found out Harry took his anger out on Edward once more.

The thought was already crippling him. Plus, curiosity was clawing at his better senses and he just couldn't help himself. 

Louis’ phone buzzed again, but again he dismissed it.

Besides, he knew they wouldn't be alone. Harry was bound by the conditions set out for him.

“I accept.” 

“Excellent,” With a smile like that, there was no need for the stars littered in the inky blackness overhead, “excellent.”

Harry nodded, smile wavering by zero percent as the monstrous Phantom pulled up alongside them and Jake whistled as it came to a slow hault.

“This your ride Styles?”

To which said ‘Styles’ nodded and started to step back a little, knowing this were his cue to leave. 

“It is, it’s with regret I have to leave so soon but, I’m thrilled we’ll be acquainted once more tomorrow.”

Louis hadn’t smiled once, even though his fragile heart was in much need of the pleasure brought by these tickets, the notion was weighted with something much more sinister that his mind wasn’t quite willing to let himself go to yet. 

“Wait, don’t you want…” Louis started, holding out one of the tickets.

Harry shook his head, stepping down onto the road, “I trust you. See you at twenty past seven, goodnight Lou.”

Louis' heart thrummed. He remembers. Ten minutes early to everything. 

Harry nodded to the other two and opened the passenger side door, which Louis thought strange as he were sure he got out the driver’s side earlier, slamming it shut just like before. 

“Man talks like he’s from another century,” Jake snorted, watching the blackened vehicle merge with the darkness of the night, “and has the bank balance of a King.”

 

*

 

“Where have you been?”

Harry jumped out of his skin, not prepared for Edward to be lounged against the kitchen counter in the _dark_ and sighed, removing his hand from his chest, knowing he was going to be met with this but still holding a sliver of hope his Brother would’ve by some chance not checked in on him tonight.

“Don’t even think about lying.” He tacked on, watching as Harry closed the fridge door, holding the jug of fresh orange juice.

“Edward, Brother, I was with Zayn.” 

“Where?”

Edward was quick, leaves no room for thought. Harry knows this.

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

A noise emitted from Edward, close to a growl and Harry’s jaw clenched already anticipating the worse.

“Please don’t make this any more difficult than what it already is.”

“You fucking idiot,” Edward pushed off the side, uncrossing his arms as he closed in on him.

Harry watched him over the rim of his glass, swallowing the sweet liquid before placing it down on the side. He said nothing, kept his eyes down.

“You know that by putting yourself in his company is only going to make you worse and you know how it’s going to end up and on extension, how _we_ , your family, are going to have to pick up the pieces.”

Harry shook his head once, fingers tracing soft lines in the condensation of his glass, “I won’t get that bad again.”

The glass was at the other side of the room within the next point two of a second.

Harry didn’t move, flinched, but didn’t dare move. He stared at the spot on the far wall which it’d hit and smashed, ears ringing from the piercing sound.

“You,” His Brother’s voice however, the dangerous timbre was a much more daunting sound and he couldn’t bring his eyes to meet it staring straight ahead, bottom lip quivering, “are the biggest, disappointment.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry is changing, physically speaking, with the relaxation of his need to keep up appearances from being on break. The image I'm trying to create is a much more basic version of 2013. 
> 
> Your comments are killing me.

Should Louis be _this_ bothered about what he wears for a fully functioning, semi-deranged sociopath that he saw beat a man’s face and body to an unrecognisable state in under a minute?

Probably not, no.

Should he care about the attire he wears to attend an orchestra he’s been obsessed with since he was able to understand what a string quartet was?

Yes, he absolutely should.

And that’s what he keeps telling himself, stood in front of his rather large mirrored sliding door, a crisp white, Tom Ford button down shirt in one hand and a royal navy blue, Calvin Klein in the other.

The navy blue brings out the sharpness of his eyes but that means he’d have to wear grey trousers and he doesn’t know if he can be bothered with the hassle of finding that belt that matches perfectly yet was suspiciously misplaced. Where as the white definitely compliments his tan complexion and above all he enjoys looking healthy over pasty.

He wish he hadn’t asked him for help. Really, he does. The boy barely knows his Gucci from Cavalli and Louis has to locate his inner zen every single time he pronounces Laurent with a hard ’T’. Knew that if he opens that communication vault then all the other shit would come cascading out alongside it. The exact shit that he wanted to avoid, being poured out onto his mobile screen right now to which keeps lighting up on the table.

_Liam: ‘you’re still lying’  
Liam: ‘i told u i don’t like lying and you’re doing it again’_

Louis: ‘Omg please tell me how this is lying?’

_Liam: ‘saying u don’t think he’s the tiniest bit attractive’_

Louis: ‘You didn’t say it like that before, you asked if I thought he was “hot”’

And honestly, screw it. This was a dress to impress occasion if there ever was one so royal blue it is.

_Liam: ‘so you do think he’s attractive?’_

Screw the belt. Less is apparently more.

Louis: ‘If I say yes would you die happy?’

_Liam: ‘that means you’d be telling the truth for once so’  
Liam: ‘i may die imminently from shock but yah i’d be v happy’_

Louis: ‘What are you hoping to achieve from this?’

 _Liam: ‘Match maker of the year, 2015’_  
_Liam: ‘you two would make a wonderful couple, hot af’_  
_Liam: ‘your babies would be fire’_  
_Liam: ‘the sort they stick on the packs of Pampers nappies’_

Louis groaned at the sound of consecutive buzzes, not even a full three second break apart, just rabbiting away like an unfused infant on his desk. He finished doing the last button and pulled at the bottom of the shirt, tipping his head in the reflection for a final check. Blue really was his colour.

Louis: ‘Don’t ever use ‘af’ in conversation with me again’  
Louis: ‘Also, both parties have to be interested in one another for there to be a match Liam’

Not a breath after he placed the device back down was he juggling it back again, fingers tapping angrily on the screen.

Louis: ‘Not that this halfves’  
Louis: ‘**half is’  
Louis: ‘Don’t twist my words i swear God’

 _Liam: ‘;)’_  
_Liam: ‘okay but listen’_  
_Liam: ‘what have I been saying since the birth of christ?’_

Louis: ‘Enlighten me’

_Liam: ‘Harry Styles, has a solidified crush on you,’  
Liam: ‘boy is obsessed’_

Louis would roll his eyes usually, shoot off a comment saying something about how he thought they were over this. But that was before. And this is now.

There’s been about four or five times that Louis had considered telling Liam about his little rendezvous’ with Edward, so much so that he’d prepared a speech, a structured confession that explained everything with ease so Liam wouldn’t flip his shit and die of an aneurysm. But every single time he found his tongue got thick, mouth ran dry and he could see the ink running from the page of the script.

Louis: ‘Liam you need to let this go. Harry’s just a bit weird and dramatic and if this is what’s going to make him feel better then why should i say no?’  
Louis: ‘plus Concertgebouw Liam, are you forgetting who is it exactly we’re going to watch perform?’

_Liam: ‘I will let it go when I see evidence suggesting otherwise.’_

Louis: ‘K.’

_Liam: ‘Don’t k me.’_

Louis: ‘Mm’k.’

_Liam: ‘hope you have fun then’_

Louis: ‘Oh we will’

_Liam: …  
Liam: ;)_

Louis: ‘Why do you make everything suggestive?’

_Liam: ‘pumpkin can I ask u something?’_

Louis: ‘No.’

_Liam: ‘… are you carrying protection?’_

Louis: ‘Goodnight Liam.’

 

 

*

 

 

It wasn’t an easy feat, getting into the car with a heart slamming into the dashboard, a generous reminder of how utterly absurd this entire thing is. How he is willingly putting himself in the company of satan’s minion. But he somehow just about managed it with zero casualties, if he doesn’t count the part of him that he could literally feel die, as he pulled into the theatre forecourt. It was too late to turn back, already pulling up into the long line of vehicles queuing for the valet. Not that he wanted to. He’d agreed to this, his hand wasn’t forced, his will is entirely of his own and he made the decision - the _sole_ decision - to do this and be here tonight and he will not turn back on his word due to being slightly spooked by the unfortunate company he will have to keep.

It was going to be a breeze. Harry’s unpredictable nature would be kept under wraps with whoever it was who was going to be looking after him so really, he was being a big baby.

A big baby.

“Good evening sir.”

Louis was snapped out of auto pilot when the valet tapped at his half rolled down window after he hadn’t made to move.

“ _Oh_ , gosh,” He fumbled out a reply, unhooking his seatbelt and grabbing his wallet in one swift motion, before squinting up at the uniformed man, frowning a little at his blustering performance, “sorry, sorry I was somewhere else.”

Louis handed him the keys with a nod and a smile, stuffing his wallet into his pocket. It was slim enough to not pull and bulk at the expensive tailoring.

“That’s quite alright, welcome to Bridgewater Hall.”

Somehow he could feel Harry. Just looking at the building, the crowds piling up the steps, elegant gowns and sharp suits beneath glittering ceiling lights, the expense of it all. It was all very Harry, in Louis’ eyes. Classic and ostentatious. He may be quiet, but Louis knows how that silence is all a pretence; the safer side, the more socially sound half to his dual personality.

And it didn’t take much longer than his slow ascent of the steps to find the boy himself. Stood hovering just outside the entrance, talking to a middle aged looking lady in a long purple dress, dripping in jewellery that was worth more than Louis’ Porsche, all small hand movements and wide smiles. From afar, he looked just like every other person there. He blended so well as the lady threw her head back in an elegant laugh with a dainty hand floating above her chest from what must’ve apparently been a quite hilarious remark from him, still managing to look tall and excessively long even next to a lithe lady like such.

Bizarrely, Louis felt rude just walking up to him and tapping him on the shoulder like ‘hey, hi it’s me’ kind of fashion. No that felt entirely too conventional to approach him like that, too comfortable. So he hung back instead and loitered awkwardly next to one of the gargantuan pillars, just sort of waiting for him to notice.

He didn’t have to wait long as there were soon cheek kisses shared and a wave of those delicate fingers, diamond ring glinting under the opulent lights and she glided through the tall glass entrance doors. Maybe his next move would’ve been to step forth and announce his arrival then, but the option was snatched straight from his hand and Harry turned around fully as if he just _knew_.

“You’re late Lou,” Harry was a picture of concern, he thought twice about saying _‘that’s not like you’_ , “is everything alright?”

And he was closing the gap already, looking like a tailor’s dream in a single breasted jet black two piece, with satin notch lapels and the purest of whites flower pin to the left. The off white shirt he wore beneath was buttoned to the neck, no tie, but had a peculiar pattern, busy and obscure and would look downright hideous on anyone else but somehow it all just fell into place on Harry.

Every cut on that suit was surely custom made. Louis had seen a suit be simply worn well before, but wearing something and _owning_ it at the same time was a rare dexterity all on it’s own.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Louis cleared his throat, “The valet line, you know how it is.”

Harry offered a small smile and a quiet voice, “I don’t, actually.”

It didn’t take a haughty IQ to realise that the two large men stood around six feet away from their shared personal space, were the people who are accompanying them tonight. Louis tore his eyes away from their stoic expressions, their clinical black and white suits, Harry’s voice having long left his recollection.

“But you drive don’t you?” Louis kept his eyes down as they made their way inside and started walking towards the front desk, politely keeping a slow pace for the elderly in front, “Didn’t you drive here?”

“I did yes, but you see,” Harry leant in a little and Louis didn’t realise he’d been holding his breath, “my Father is somewhat royalty to these people and so we get priority with everything, including valet.”

He didn’t expect the word _‘we’_ to make his stomach churn the way it did. He knew he was referring to Edward, how they, as his children get preferential treatment amidst all crowds. Louis looked away as he were too weak to hold his stare. How the moisture of his eyes shimmered under those extravagant lights, how they injected some innocence into the darkest shade of green.

It had been two minutes and he were already struggling.

Two hours. Two hours was all he had to endure.

“Right,” Louis nodded at the lady behind the desk and handed over his ticket with a forced smile, tried for his usual smarty self, “I hope your VIP treatment extends to your plus ones.”

“Most definitely.” Harry’s eyes sparkled for a moment, a sure smile on his lips as he looked down at the blushing boy, which, when that happened Louis wasn’t exactly sure.

Twenty minutes had passed and they’d been seated, Harry shaking the hands of several people as they passed all commenting on how nice it was to see him and _‘how’s Anne? She’s in London next week again I know Des get’s sated with her constant trips’_ or _‘and Edward? How are things, are you looking forward to transferring?’_

Louis had to take a few breaths. Nausea was kicking his arse.

The hall was full, brimming with an illustrious energy as everyone prepared for the lights to go down and Bernard Haitink to appear.

After a couple of refreshments, Harry checked once more if Louis wanted anything.

“Nothing to munch on quietly?”

And Louis politely declined, again.

“They serve excellent miniature pots of ice cream at the Albert in London.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding Harry smirked and added, “They know my order by heart, every time I go, they have a serving of mint chocolate ready and waiting.”

Louis couldn’t stop himself before he blurted out, “Yes _thank you_ , it’s the best right?”

“The _best_.” Harry smiled that brilliant smile.

A couple of small moments passed were nothing was said. Nothing needed to be. Louis just slipping into the cusp of feeling comfortable when-

“You look astonishing tonight Lou.”

That tiny little jump his heart did and the blush gracing his cheeks at even the slightest compliment or _insinuation_ of one, really wasn’t appreciated by it’s token. Louis was thankful for the dipped lighting of the grand hall and turned away nodding lightly with a small thanks.

“You look quite sharp yourself, the flower really makes it pop.” Louis avoided his eyes but quickly looked back when Harry giggled. He was taken aback for a moment at how _sweet_ of a sound it was, still deep and broken but much lighter than his Brother’s, “What? I’m being serious.”

“I know, no of course I know you are I’m just-” It was unlike Harry to fall short of words mid sentence, a lazy attribute of conversing he’d not once adopted but seemed to struggle for a second, waving his hand in front of himself quickly, “Doesn’t matter, thank you.”

“Is it British?” Louis forgot who he was, who Harry was and quite frankly _everything_ from the last month or so of his life when he reached over the arm rest and shifted a forefinger and thumb on the label to feel the silky material, eyes falling to the intricate padding of the shoulders, “The cut is traditional, it fits so well but I feel like it’s an American… am I right?”

Harry didn’t want to draw attention to the fingers so innocently investigating his attire, that he panicked and rushed a reply “No. You’re wrong.”

Louis hummed, unbothered by the gruff response and leant a little over to get a better look at the stitching to the cuff.

It was only when one of the men, the thus far non imposing and seemingly _pointless_ security guys who had kept quite the literal back seat - sat directly behind them both now - placed a hand, thick calloused fingers on Louis’ shoulder to get his attention, did his actions scream back at him like a pair of headlights on full beam in the dead of night.

He looked to the hand and to the man, who gave him a short shake of the head, expressionless.

Louis picked his own appendages away from Harry, who was just staring at them with a distracted confusion, licking his lips and sighing when they were gone.

“It’s - um, it’s not American?”

Louis stuttered, sitting back into his seat and only then did the unnamed man’s hand let go.

“Burberry.” Harry clarified, looking like his mind was elsewhere.

Similar to his thought process earlier, he wasn’t surprised by Harry’s expensive taste. His character and how he held himself always an indicator to more refined preferences. But he never thought it extended that much to _fashion_. He was intellectual and clearly had high tastes in most things in life but his clothing choices at school had always been boring, monotonous and plain. Only recently is he seeing this side of Harry, since school’s broke, with his loose hair and form fitting attires.

Harry was still staring at him when the lights went down completely and the room fell silent on a dime.

 

 

*

 

 

“You know the extent of the injuries?”

“I do, but that’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

“But Harry-“

“- Louis no.” Harry ran a flat palm down the front of his shirt as he looked at Louis directly, “Pardon my interruption, but I must refuse. It’s not the most pleasant of topics.”

Louis had never felt so censored before in his life. Not even by his own parents, the two people that have indeed up until the last adolescent breath he’d taken, wrapped him up in cotton wool and buffered him from the harshness of the world, the grit of cold reality. None of that compared with how protected he felt right now, like Harry was afraid of smudging his innocence with details of the very abuse he witnessed.

“I’m not going to cry or anything, you remember I actually _saw_ you break every bone in the boy’s face.”

Harry may have physically winced at that. And Louis was finding himself growing more curious about him by the second.

“I thought we were going to enjoy a nice evening without this ugly topic arising.”

“Harry, you’ve brought me here because of this topic.”

No response was given and Louis knew he was right. So he didn’t loosen up, just kept pushing.

“I just want to know what happened to him, for you to get arrested it must’ve been horrific.” Edward had side stepped the specifics when it came to injuries too, he doesn’t know why he were so eager to know but, he didn’t care, “You owe me this.”

“Louis, please.”

“Harry, _please_.”

If anything, Harry was a slave to his scorn. It was a quality that could be so cruel and jarring but he found unapologetically endearing and he didn’t think he was ever going to be able to build a defence against it. He licked his lips, looking away for a second, checking to see if anyone was listening before turning back and leaning into the arm he had braced on the rest between them.

Louis dragged his eyes over the stretch in his suit over the bicep before his attention was brought North again at the sound of his voice.

“He had a broken nose, jaw, fractured left orbital… experienced some non fatal head trauma, concussion and what not,” Harry motioned to the parts of his body loosely as he spoke, concentrating on getting each part correct, “Fractured larynx, four broken ribs and um, bizarrely, two broken fingers.”

The silence that followed was only on the outside. Inside, Louis screamed.

“You talk like you’re reading a news report,” He gulped, the reality of the injuries were stinking in a little stronger than he preempted it to, “y-you did that.”

“I am aware, Lou.”

Harry nodded, a challenge present in his eye as he looked at him.

“Do you regret any of it?”

The momentary confidence was gone then, Harry shuffling his legs in the seat, large palms splaying over long thighs as he sighed silently.

“Harry,” Louis gave him a chance, maybe he could get something from him here. There was a window of opportunity there for Harry to touch upon his more humane side, the sober part of him that didn’t juggle logic and emotion, “Harry it’s alright.”

Louis knew himself too well. He could feel his soft centre rising to the surface, a sentence away from feeling sorry for him.

“Would you prefer me to be incredulously honest?”

“Well, I don’t want you to lie.”

“The only regret I have, is that I didn’t drive my foot hard enough into his neck to break it.”

The announcement boomed over the tannoy that the second half was about to commence and Louis was still staring, to his horror, with his mouth hung open at Harry.

They sat stagnant, while others shifted around them, bodies along with their foreign voices mingling into background noise, irrelevant after what Louis had just heard. What Harry had just admitted. It was like a tiny peak into the darkness that he’d been warned about. Did he even mean to let it slip? Is that why he isn’t looking at him right now? He knew he’d fucked it. Knew he couldn’t meet Louis’ eye, afraid of the reaction his accidental admission had summoned.

“ ‘scuse me,” Louis stood, Harry was quick to follow. The inexcusable inches between their heights making the thumping in Louis’ ears quicken, “Harry I need the toilet.”

“We’ve just had fifteen minutes, could you not have gone then?”

“Are you telling me I can’t take a piss?”

Harry’s mouth settled into a thin line as those eyes gave Louis’ a once over. Probably deciding whether or not he were in fact going to allow this.

“Louis, you asked me to be honest.”

“And I’m thrilled that you were, now if you could just-,” Louis motioned to get around Harry, but a strong arm shot out to the chair in front, a bone crushing hold on the metal there.

Louis looked at his whitened knuckles and then back to the flared nostrils, finally settling onto those feral eyes. He didn’t see the two men rise from the row behind.

“I really do just want the toilet, stop being ridiculous.”

 

 

*

 

 

So he wasn’t telling a complete lie. He definitely needed to empty his bladder after the two glasses of complimentary champagne and four waters he’d polished off since arrival, but he also needed a moment or two to let this intense evening just sink in.

Maybe he could blame his Mother for his stubbornness. He didn’t want to seem too afraid, too unnerved by Harry’s invitation and so with a puffed chest and raised chin he accepted like the young man that he is and went forth and got himself here without a peep. Sometimes, he thought, making a wide path to let the couple of stragglers making their way back into the hall pass, sometimes perhaps it’s better to admit something is just a little too much for you. Kind of, in the wise words of Edward Styles, _‘know when you’re defeated’_ sort of thing.

Ah, Edward. There’s his voice again. A collision in his minds eye of two opposing siblings. Two people who a month ago meant nothing to him. People who, if Liam hadn’t invited one to his pool party, would still mean diddly squat to him now. Or maybe if he hadn’t have charged up to him that late afternoon on the school grounds, asking him to quieten down, he wouldn’t have felt the urge to invite himself.

But then Louis shuddered. Coming through the door to greet the fresh air, eyes fluttering shut at the voice whispering to him how different his fate wouldn’t been that night at his party if the twins _weren’t_ there.

This whole situation from beginning to end is confusing and alarming and definitely shouldn’t make him feel like he does right now, as he recalls all the little details, like if he had a choice to be anywhere right now it would be in a certain room, with a certain person with a certain bowl of very delicious ice cre-

“You fucking _little-_ ”

There is no way on heaven or earth that voice could be real.

“It’s like you _enjoy_ torturing me.”

His mind is playing tricks.

But for that to be true, his eyes must be in on it too as there was a boy with the blackest of black suit - and yes _suit_ , Louis raised his eyebrows on the double take - scaling the concrete steps up to the foyer two at a time, looking straight at him.

Dumbly - and Louis will never know _why_ \- he threw a hesitant look over his shoulder to see if it was him that he were looking at. Just incase, you know, Edward had a doppelganger other than his twin that was sat waiting for him not a hundred or so metres away.

All ludicrous thoughts were thrown to the wind though as he was suddenly right there now, chest heaving and a humourless laugh bubbled through a closed jaw and what sounded like gritted teeth.

“So.”

He looked, at a loss for a better word, _incredible_. Black suit, single breasted again, black shirt and polished black boots. Hair shoved up into it’s usual turmoil, his only accessory being the soul shrivelling stare he’s planting Louis to the spot with.

“What…”

“…am I doing here?” Edward interrupted, voice hoarse and direct, “Why the fuck have you been ignoring my calls?”

“I- you,” Louis looked to the couple smoking on the far side who had been caught off guard by Edward’s harsh vocals, eyeing him disapprovingly, “I haven’t-”

“-I have been calling you for the past hour, do not _lie_.”

Shock was still present. Definitely. Louis was still trying to process the fact that Edward was right there, dressed like that, looking at him like that while his Brother was waiting - probably a nervous wreck by now - for him to return also looking like he’d stepped right out of a catalogue.

Edward’s gaze moved down, ignoring the whispers and looks he was receiving from the couple and the security men. He ran a hand through his hair and cocked his head to the side.

“So you’re alright or?”

“M’fine… I just, why are you here?”

Edward gave him an incredulous look, answering Louis’ question immediately, “You’re intelligent enough to work that out.”

“So, you knew?”

“I found out about an hour ago. Like I said, ringing you. One hour.” Well, the thing he’d been fearing the worst, i.e. Edward finding out, had come to, “I knew he went to see you yesterday but had absolutely _no_ idea that he was planning this, because if I had I would’ve shackled him to the fucking radiator myself.”

“Right. Yeah about that, how- did you tell him I was going to the ballet last night?”

“Oh sweet pea have I taught you nothing? He knows _everything_ ,” Edward hung his head back, his adams apple bobbing, more loose with his demeanour than usual, “He knew your friend Lucy had a performance last night and so was guaranteed to catch you. I tried calling you once I’d found out he’d left the house but,” He cocked an eyebrow, ran a slow tongue over his front teeth, “ignorance runs deep with you.”

“I - he was in the middle of talking to me, I couldn’t ex-“

“-You should’ve let me know you were alright when he’d left.”

“I got distracted after I-I’m sorry.”

That’s twice he’s had to apologise to Edward. In the space of one week. That’s more than he’s apologised to anyone before in his whole life. This had to stop.

“And tonight, again, I ring you once I find out exactly _why_ the fuck he wanted to see you so badly last night and you still fucking ignore me,” Edward was angry, but there was a caution to his vexation, he was aware of not coming across too brutal, “so m’getting a bit of a complex over here, anything you want to tell me princess?”

Louis patted down his pockets, about to reply when he was pulled off track.

“My… wait, my phone it’s- it’s not- I don’t have it,” Louis looked wide eyed at him, then around himself as if that would explain anything, “I don’t have my phone.”

Edward closed his eyes slowly, inhaling before he finally responded to the man who had been calling up to him - with a few choice obscenities after he realised Edward was blatantly ignoring him - and turned around with a boom in his voice, informing the man he’ll be no longer than four _‘fucking’_ minutes.

Louis bit his lip, looking at the man and feeling quite sorry for him as he couldn’t get his vehicle past Edward’s carelessly parked one.

“I’m on his side here Edward, maybe you should go m-“

“-So you don’t have your phone? Is that the excuse you’re sticking to?”

Louis scoffed, “My pockets, Edward, are empty,” Louis slapped his hands around the area and patted them down his shirt - even though, in retrospect this was ridiculous as he wore no jacket.

Edward was already charging past him when he muttered, “I swear if Harry has fucking taken yo-”

Louis thanked whatever or whoever for timing of his very sudden memory restoration.

“-wait!” Louis stopped him, hand on his forearm, “I just- the car, I left it in my car.”

Louis was hating this not being able to speak in full sentences performance he had going on. Another thing, that had to _stop_. Who even is he around Edward? He’s come to not quite recognise or respect for that matter, this person that he’s able to draw.

“ _Earlier_ , I mean, I was rushed out of my car and must’ve grabbed my wallet and left my phone,” He breathed a sigh of relief at too many things at once, “yeah.”

Edward looked at Louis’ hand on his - to which the smaller boy immediately recoiled - and let go of the door handle.

“Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“For what?”

“Making me age prematurely from worry? Hauling my arse out here just to make sure you were still in one piece?”

“I apologised already.”

“That was for something entirely different.”

“Yes well,” Louis hugged himself a little bit, not from the cool air but from a weird sense of over exposure, “apologies come far and in-between.”

“Of course they do.”

Edward retraced his steps, clearing his throat yet ridding none of the gravel it carried.

“You need to leave Louis, please,” He was less angry now, but no less militant, “I don’t trust him and neither should you, he’s not well enough to be out of the house never mind with-”

“What? With what? With me?”

Edward nodded, ignored now a very angry woman who was conversing with the man from earlier at the foot of the steps, making no secret of pointing out who the owner of the Range Rover was, “Yeah.”

Louis puffed out his cheeks, clearly troubled by this, “I- I can’t. If I leave he will be heart broken, he’ll never forgive me.”

“Please, forgiveness will never become an issue concerning you,” Edward swung around and yelled out a strong curse or two at the man shouting at him _again_ to move his car, transitioning calmly back, “so he’ll get over it. You just need a strong excuse.”

“He was already suspicious when I told him I needed the toilet, there’s no way anything I say will be believable.”

“See? See that dangerous hold he has on you? The fragile one he has on himself.” Edward scrubbed his hands up and down his face, “There’s no fucking way you’re staying here.”

Louis nodded, a feeling akin to genuine regret tinkering away at his chest, “I know, I know it’s weird I just, he seemed alright you know? Up until the last minute he was fine. I just feel so bad walking out like this.”

“Listen to me, Harry will be just fine.” Edward pointed a finger to nowhere specific, but those eyes were on him and nothing else, “You are going to leave this concert right now and not look back. I will take care of any repercussions-”

“-See that’s what scares me the most, he’s going to get angry and yo-”

“-Are you arguing with me sweet pea?”

Louis closed his mouth, thought about for a second and then shook his head, slowly. Because no, he actually wasn’t. Or couldn’t. Either way.

“What do you propose we do?” He said instead, rocking forward on his heels a touch with that tiny little tilt to his head.

Edward’s smirk was offensively suggestive. Louis had learnt to read the different expressions now and he was only vaguely disturbed by this.

“So the plan involves a _we?_ ” He waggled his eyebrows and Louis, even in the midst of a downright horrendous situation, giggled.

“Well, I guess I do have some making up to do.”

Edward stared.

Louis rolled his eyes, practically feeling Edward’s dirty, obscene thoughts sink their way into his own unpolluted mind. Meanwhile wondering how the same pair of eyes could make you want to cry one minute and the next, well, it feels like your whole body is an itch that can only be scratched by Edward.

“So,” Edward smirked, having not stopped smirking since Louis initiated they were a pairing for the night, “back to mine?”

“Do you have some ice cream?”

“That offensive mint shit? Yeah we have three tubs.”

Louis hummed on a wide smile but stopped dead when Edward leant in, heeled boots echoing on the concrete as he closed the gap, hands deep in his pockets and whispered, “ _Unopened_.”

A giggling mess he pushed at Edward’s chest, to which the elder beamed at. Witty, direct and self righteous Louis would always be his favourite, but when he laughs like that it’s hard not to just stop and watch the delectable sight unfold. This reminder of his innocence only makes this whole thing a lot more satisfying to his twisted desire.

Once recovered, Louis took a moment to glance back over his shoulder to the currently empty foyer. They were alone. And for how long now he didn’t quite know but the couple who were smoking must’ve left some time ago as the smell of smoke was long gone.

“Get moving, we’ve wasted enough time flirting.” The voice was distant, yet still whipped his attention.

“To where? I don’t know your address?”

Edward had travelled the first set of steps already when he barely turned fully to reply, “Follow my car. Incase you missed it earlier, it’s that big black one right there that’s expertly parked.”

 

*

 

“It just baffles me, so peculiar, the famous cold hearted, hit and run archetypal player Edward Styles was _worried_ about someone?”

“Louis.”

“ _Actually_ held a grain of concern over another person’s well being,” Louis pulled himself up to perch his backside on the counter, “truly, fascinating.”

He’d been here once and yet that felt like enough to feel efficiently at home, swinging his legs a little as he watched Edward stalk over to the freezer and shuffle through the drawers. His shoes were removed at the door by force of habit and had been carried by Edward as they strolled to get the vitals for a night in.

“I hope you can move as fast as your tongue.”

He returned with, as promised, an fresh pot of ice cream and Louis made a soft humming sound giving Edward a curious look. He accepted the spoon shortly after making a speedy start of removing the plastic seal from the frosted lid.

“Because if you keep making these sarcastic digs that you think are cute, you better run.”

It was adorable, even by Edward’s admittance, the look of satisfaction when the lid to the horrendous pot of cream come heart attack finally popped off and Louis swirled it in the air above for a moment to consider which spot to tuck into first.

“Alright soldier,” The spoon was in, “you can act hard all like you like, but let us not forget I know you have a diary and you care about me.” Louis closed his mouth around the generous serving and let it melt on his pallet before adding, hand covering his mouth, “Like, _really_ care about me.”

Edward shouldered off his jacket and laughed. A sound Louis takes immense pleasure in hearing and hadn’t realised just how much he enjoys it until now, after not hearing it for so long.

“What would you say if I told you I wrote about you?”

Louis discarded the sugary treat to peer up at Edward, placing his jacket over the back of a leather bar stool.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not joking?” When met with no response and just a coy smirk and head duck, he pushed on, “You’re not joking are you?”

The buttons to his shirt were being undone one by one and Louis had to actually look around himself to check that they were actually where he thought they were.

“You think highly of yourself, princess.” Edward teased, head down as he let the last few buttons pop and the shirt hang open.

Were it normal for the Styles to undress in the kitchen? Was this regular practise?

“But um…” Getting a full sentence out is difficult by default around Edward at the best of times. Struggling to keep his mind on a pure course that doesn’t involve violence or sex proves quite a challenge too. But when faced with a long panel of exposed torso and that dreadful _smile_ that makes his dimples practically punch holes in his cheeks it’s close to impossible.

Maybe he’d been staring for longer than he’d thought.

“Careful sweet pea, your ice cream will melt.”

Louis looked to his ice cream and frowned. And well. The sides were already more cream than ice. He licked the side of his teeth and sighed, setting the pot on the counter next to him. Why was he doing this? Why was he absorbed into a tub of green indulgence when the more pressing indulgence were right in front of him, only a much more dangerous shade of green, yet Louis was willing to bet a whole lot more satisfying.

“What are you doing?”

Edward wasn’t stupid. It was a conscious decision to initiate an undress stood before Louis like that, knew that he’d have those baby blue eyes wide and nervous at the sight, unsure of were to look once he’d been caught staring. He lived for those moments.

“I need to change, don’t like to be in a suit longer than necessary, feels so…” he motion with his hands, “restrictive.”

Louis nodded, Edwards back turned towards the sink , the muscles shifting beneath his shirt serving to have quite a narcotic effect and he couldn’t pull away. He’d poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down in one, “Give me one moment my sweet.”

Edward placed the glass down with a light slam, scooped his jacket off the stool and was gone.

Curiosity is a curious thing.

Louis knew he shouldn’t do it. Knew he wanted to do it. But when it came down to it, knew that whether he did it now or later, eventually something was going to give.

Hopping off the side, ice cream long forgotten, he padded with socked feet out of the kitchen and down the hallway, the strong smell of burnt oak filling his nostrils.

At the end of the day, Louis always gets what he wants. And this is what he wants.

_‘Up the stairs, to left, down the first corridor and two doors down is my room.’_

And of all he decisions Louis has made thus far in his life, or more appropriately - in the last month, this was probably the most stupid. It was dangerous and put others safety at risk, including his own.

Directions were needed not, as the cologne was heavy enough to lead the way. And it only got stronger, the closer he got to the door, wide open with an amber light burning from inside and bleeding onto the dark corridor.

“Edward?”

Louis knocked twice, so gently though that if it weren’t for the deathly silence that encompassed it would’ve gotten lost.

“Why do people do that?” Edward’s back was facing him, free of clothing and baring the tattoos Louis had yet to see; a long line of something written in Latin right down his spinal column. Some other text over his right shoulder blade, indecipherable from the muscle bulking and formed there, “Knock when the door is already open.”

Louis let his hand fall to his side.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t want to risk it now that Edward had turned and was facing him in nothing but a dark pair of underwear.

“It’s not like I have a choice.” Edward smiled, straightening out a pair of dark shorts to slip into, stepping into them and adjusting himself when they were on and hanging low on his hips.

“I don’t think you need choices though.” Louis replied, keeping as cool as he could, “you know what you want.”

Edward raised his eyebrows, letting his weight fall onto one side making his hip pop a little and Louis nearly laughed from how willing he was to lick that damn line of muscle leading up from his naval, accentuated with his posture.

“You like to make others think they have one though,” He had Edward’s full attention and wasn’t going to waste it by losing his focus, “you act like you give people the option to take it or leave it, like it doesn’t matter to you, when really you know you could have them on their knees begging for it.”

Edward’s gaze had narrowed, he dropped the t-shirt he was going to pull on and was walking towards the small boy standing bravely in his doorway.

“It’s curious because all this time, I’ve been watching your act unfold and yet you’ve barely made a move on me.”

If he was catching on, he knew he was balancing on a thin line of angering Edward, offending him or turning him on. It was all a load of rubbish, Edward had already made a move, but the act of belittling it would get his blood racing either way.

“It’s a shame.”

“You want me to be a little more,” Edward’s body heat was scorching Louis’ skin he was so close, “forthright?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

Edward left a heavy gaze on Louis for a moment before he nodded slowly, jaw tensing.

“Okay.”

Louis stifled a breath when Edward’s large hand grappled his and pulled him the last half a foot into himself, bodies pressed hard and long against the other.

The universe took a breath too, as Edward’s lips, always so full and curved were closer than they’ve ever been, hovering centimetres away from Louis’. The moment was dragging and painful as both waited - Edward more - for the other to have a chance to decline, to object in some way or another and push back.

But non such things happened.

Edward was patient. But his groin and animalistic instincts were not. Angling his head by the tiniest fraction he kept his eyes on Louis’ and ducked until their lips touched. Louis’ soft, fine lips parted instantly accepting the advance, inhaling all that he could of Edward, while tasting what he allowed. Their lips shifted carefully, easily, against the other with soft pecks and gentle sucking, Edward deepening it by not much with a further dip of his head applying more pressure.

He pulled Louis into him harder, his entire body like putty in his hands and kicked the door shut blindly.

His body buzzed. Gone were any feeling in his toes or fingers as they were left to fend for themselves, touch what they will as all the energy in his body had relocated to his lips, a little moan escaping when Edward pulled at his lower lip before breaking away completely.

The kiss was innocent enough. Unexpectedly sweet. Not what he thought of when it came to an animal like Edward.

“How was that?”

There were no decent thoughts to be collected, Louis just accepted the steady flow of indecency flowing through his mind’s eye as he tried to think of a suitable response.

“I mean,” Louis was always going to see his stubbornness through to the end though, “I think I just made your next diary entry a whole lot mo-“

Edward didn’t let him finish, groaning as he rolled his eyes and hung his head back before picking up a giggling Louis by his thighs, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he were hoisted to Edward’s favourite position.

“God that mouth of yours is going to get you into a lot of trouble.”

Edward kissed that mouth, so pink and tempting, so small and delicate, just like the owner.

He carried Louis over to his bed and let him fall softly onto his back, thighs still wrapped around his hips, this angle playing havoc with his inner strife. Louis managed to make it thrice as tormenting when he bit his lip and moaned softly at the two palms running up his thighs, ghosting past the _insane_ curve of his bottom and kneaded at the flesh offered where his shirt had ridden up.

Edward wanted to even the score, a small growl erupting from somewhere deep down in his throat when he ran his hands up Louis’ flank and felt the clothing still dutifully donned there.

“This,” He leant forward so he were quite an intimidating presence over Louis’ tiny frame, pinched the collar briefly before pressing a kiss into Louis’ swollen lips one last time and stepped back, “needs to be gone.”

Louis was breathless, not knowing what was happening or if it were a sensical thing and not really caring too much at all. But he was confused, couldn’t voice his confusion from being so caught up with the ghost of full lips and rough hands on him so instead hoped the frown he was pulling conveyed it well enough.

“Take it off.”

He wanted to watch. And he was making it very clear that he wanted him to do it now and that nothing else was going to happen until that did, running his thumb over his ring, pupils blown and honed in on Louis’ trembling fingers quick to obey.

The shirt was unbuttoned and pushed down, just about to be fully off, when Edward groaned and finished the job, ripping the clothing right off his arm and throwing it haphazardly to the side before slamming himself back into Louis.

“I have to,” Edward kissed his lips again, “remind you,” Then to his jaw, “that,” Jaw again, “we’re alone this time,” Where neck met jaw got a light suck, “so you can make all the noise,” He moaned through the attack and the vibration that was sent through his neck made Louis keen, “you want” A final peck was planted to the marked area, “and if you try hold back any of those pretty sounds you will be punished.”

To reinforce his statement, a large hand connected with Louis’ backside and he near enough squeaked, mouth falling open on a surprised sound that followed.

Maybe it was the gnawing curiosity, or Louis was unearthing a side to him he’d not yet had the opportunity to, but he reached down and gripped lightly around that palpable hardness.

“ _Oh my…_ ” Louis trailed off, pupils huge as he craned his neck to check what he was feeling was really there, “E-Edward-"

He’d seen the outline in poor light previously, felt it against his own arousal as of a few moments ago but now that he was actually sussing it out with his own hands all previous envisions of what he would be dealing with were scrubbed.

Edward covered Louis’ hand that was slowly rubbing up and down his thick length with his own, the beginning of a gut deep growl vibrating in his throat. Every movement he made, no matter how slight, was whittling his will power further down.

“I think” It was torture, “we should work you up,” All he wanted was to rip him apart, “to that.” He breathed out heavy against the skin at Louis neck, goosebumps rising despite his temperature and pushed out through gritted teeth, “ _Easy_ baby.”

Whining, Louis pouted a little before clapping a kiss to Edward, lips wet and swollen, moaning a little into it when he pulled away with a soft pop.

“I don’t need-” Edward drove his hips into Louis’ taint, causing a broken mewl to resonate, helping Edward’s internal struggle by nil, “- _mmh_ \- Edward, Edward I could take it.”

Edward’s reply was something caught between a continuation of the growl and low laugh, kissing his way up Louis’ bared neck, damp now, leaving a trail of wet kisses up to his ear lobe. He bit down and absorbed the moans he got for his efforts, the sweet, sweet sounds that was Louis’ feather weight voice laced through something so erotic.

“You will,” Edward pulled himself up, balancing his upper body with two strong arms either side of Louis’ face, “eventually.”

Louis propped both hands on those biceps, snaking his fingers as far as they'd go around the offensive offering of muscle laid there and dragged his sore lip through his teeth at the sight, the ink pigment morphing into different shapes as they shifted beneath his skin.

Edward was being so gentle with him and it drove him crazy. He knew it. But the tiny snippets of insights he let him have, to his true brutish nature, the Edward he _knows_ he will get once he’s satisfied Louis is ready, makes his stomach twist in that addictively pleasant way again, a feeling which he like many other things he’s experienced with Edward, was unfamiliar with.

 

 

*

 

 

Harry wasn’t angry. Not with Louis anyway.

He’d scared him off again. It was his fault. Everything was his fault.

Edward was right. That lone voice in his head was right; he was useless. A disappointment.

All he is, all he ever had been and all he is yet to amount to is good intentions. The root of the issue is always a genuine place, but it’s the carrying it out part he fucks up. Always that one step too far, always careless where passion lies, bringing suffering to those who care for him the most.

The gravel crunched beneath his feet and he slammed the car door shut, ignoring the two security guys who got out instantly after him, calling his name.

He would’ve succeeded on his path to the front door if it weren’t for the hand in the crook of his elbow joint swivelling him back round.

Harry was in no mood for conflict. He wasn’t going to lash out, just couldn’t be bothered. All will to speak was lost fifteen minutes after Louis’ departure. The only reason he rode out the rest of the performance was because it was the only thing connecting him to Louis. His soft cologne was still present in the space he’d left and if he tried hard enough, kept his head forward and focused, blinked away enough of the blurriness from the tears just so, he could almost still see his outline in the corner of his eye.

“What?”

“Take your pills, get a drink and go to bed,” The man’s voice was uninteresting, a monotone sound that wore away at Harry’s will even more, “Your Parents will be home within the hour so make it easy for them alright?”

The lump in his throat would burn a hole soon enough if he didn’t get inside where he could finally let it out.

“Sure.” He nodded, waited for his arm to be released and didn’t waste another second before jogging up the steps and taking a hold of the door knob, turning just before he closed it and called out, “Drive carefully.”

And he was inside.

The click of the door echoed through the empty lobby, a cruel metaphor that rang too true.

Sighing he unbuttoned his suit fastening and let it fall open as he pushed himself off the back of the door. He had to keep moving, force his feet to carry him forward or else his Mother and Father will come home to a sobbing wreck right there on the floor.

Pills. Drink. Bed.

Sounds simple enough. _Was_ , simple enough. He couldn’t mess this up at least, one thing he would carry out start to finish with zero mistakes. Tonight he was sure he would need to take some sleepers as the next few hours would be restless and intolerable without them. He squinted at the harsh kitchen light, eyes having adjusted not only to the night sky on the drive back but the dim lighting of the hallways.

It was right after he returned to the first archway to the entrance of the kitchen, gulping down the generous mouthful of water from the bottle in his hand, when he saw it.

The ice cream.

“What,” Harry frowned until he was hovering over it, picking the spoon that had been left poking out the top and lifting it up to watch the ice cream drip down in an infuriatingly _liquid_ form.

If this was Edward’s way of getting him back for lightly scratching his Royce last night then it was un called for and cruel. He’d already booked the specialist to come round and fix the paintwork so he really didn’t know what his problem was.

Harry shook his head, taking the dripping item, minus the spoon, over to the large pedal bin and dropping it in with a loud thud.

But he stayed there for a second, zoning in on the small dark blur in his peripherals.

He didn't even give it half a glance on his way over but only now did it register.

Moving only his head, he looked towards the blur, allowing his brain to register what he was seeing in all it’s blood boiling glory.

This, with the ice cream added up to make a harrowing realisation.

The plastic from the water bottle crumpled in his grip, unaware of his actions, mind almost separate from his body or control as he was still focusing on that one spot.

Letting the bin lid fall closed again he stepped back slowly, looked up at the dark nothingness of the corridor and tried to not let himself slip down that slope. Tried to reason with himself. Tried so hard to clutch at whatever it was that had kept him frozen this far, not hurtling upstairs with a one track mind.

But it was useless as when he retraced his thoughts, he realised that the only thing that was keeping him there was the fact he’d been thinking how Edward would never do this to him. Would never cross this line. Take as he does, as he always has, _anything_ from him but not this.

And twenty three seconds was all it took for logical reasoning to piece the evidence together and present him with the reality that yes, yes he would.

Harry bent down and collected the pair of shoes, a size or two too small for any male in this house and made his way back down the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve said it before but perception is a subjective thing and it's so interesting to see what dynamics or details you're picking up on that decide how you see this story. And it's even _more_ exciting because I know how it all pans out m.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a turning point, so bear with it. A lot of you will be happy to hear there is some good Harry and Louis time right round the corner too.

“You bruise like a peach.”

“You would too if you had a man-gorilla hybrid holding you down by the wrists.”

“I had to with those javelin joints, felt like I were clutching spaghetti.”

“Did you have to lean your whole mammoth body weight into it though? No.”

“Oh pipe down, if you thought that was painful maybe come back over here and get me hard again,” Edward patted the spot next to him and started gently pulling on the bedsheets that Louis was currently wrapped in, sat opposite from him against the foot of the bed, “I’ve had a change of heart I think you’re ready.”

Louis squealed as his ridiculously lithe frame was gradually pulled effortlessly back up the bed by two very capable hands. The covers were wound around his legs, underwear still on but he knew how much of a soft spot Edward had for his thighs and southernly regions and so decided to leave much to Edward’s already thriving imagination by covering those too, as his upper body was also concealed by Edward’s ACDC t-shirt. 

“ _Edward!_ ” Louis’ giggles bounced off all the four walls and straight to into Edward’s chest, as he kicked his legs in the sheets, “Edward stop!”

“Maybe I should introduce you to the _real_ struggle,” He taunted, dodging and taming Louis’ gentle kicks, “crying a fucking river over a lightly bruised wrist but was more than confident about the idea of a sore arse.” 

He managed to disarm him of the layer of bedding and grip both ankles firmly. Barely even a struggle ensued once he used his upper body to grapple Louis’ lower and it didn’t take long until he had him on his half of the more than adequately sized mattress, squirming - but not really - in the death grip around his waist. 

“Such a sensitive sally.” Edward shook his head, spreading his fingers wide around the narrow area, smiling at the awkward position but enjoying the warmth on his fingertips from Louis’ tummy as he stretched a little.

“That’s, wait- okay,” Louis caught his breath, couldn’t decide what he wanted to backfire with more, scoffing a ridiculous amount of times as he pushed himself up on his arms and pointed an accusing finger at Edward, “I find that pretty rich coming from someone who writes down their feelings to _themselves_ at the end of every day. Do you include quotes too?”

Edward’s smile subsided then, his fingertips loosening around his middle to let Louis sit comfortably to the side instead. He bowed his head and sat up straight against his headboard again, the bleach white pillows behind him contrasting with his painted body, somehow becoming even more of a focal point for Louis’ heart than what he already is. He cleared his throat, eyes downcast and Louis felt weird all of a sudden, his own smile melting off his face whilst a peculiar pang of guilt twitched in his chest.

“What?”

“S’nothing,” He licked his lips, thought about what he wanted to say before sighing and looking back down again, “I just, I wish you wouldn’t keep going on about that.”

Louis’ body deflated, the mocking tone dropping like lead from his voice, “W-what? What’s wrong, what d’you mean?”

“I know I can seem a little hard up about emotions most of the time,” Edward shuffled back into the soft fabric, his naked torso still an annoying distraction to Louis as he tried to concentrate on whatever it was he was trying to tell him, “Like I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve so, I dunno, people tend to think I don’t have one.”

“Edward…”

“It’s fine. I don’t want to make a big deal of it,” He still wasn’t looking at Louis, picking at his fingernail and finding this to be a lot more of a suitable point of interest, “just, people used to poke fun at me all the time when I was growing up, calling me out for being too sensitive or whatever and so I guess I had to learn to contain it, redirect my emotions in another way.”

Louis had shifted closer on the bed. Features falling slack, Edward’s enthralling half naked state forgotten as he sunk into those sad eyes and sombre tone. Things that were so misplaced on him.

“Writing just helps, I guess.” Edward continued, shrugging softly and sniffing as he noticed a small hand appear on his forearm, “And every time you rip me for it, it just… it kind of stings.”

“Edward you should’ve shut me down earlier than this.”

Edward looked up then, green eyes wide, expression unreadable.

“What those people did, I- it’s horrible and completely out of order, you shouldn’t be made to hide like that or change for anyone,” He shook his head, snaking his hand further around his arm, so he could manoeuvre himself under it, moulding himself onto his side seamlessly, “I don’t ever want to make you feel like that, or remind you of it or anything and I completely understand I just… I’m sorry.”

Louis brought the strong arm around him further and pressed his cheek into the hard mound of his pectoral, nuzzling into the warmth and familiar earthy scent of the boy beneath.

“You’re perfect,” With lightly puckered lips, Louis christened his collar bone with a soft kiss, “everything about you. I can’t believe anyone has ever made you feel different… was it- you know, really that bad?” 

When no reply was received after a few long seconds, Louis peered up from his position on his chest, fingers frozen on the dip in Edward’s abdomen that he had taken to running his fingers across softly. There was a smirk drawn onto his face, lopsided and teasing. 

“No.”

Louis’ brows stitched together and Edward wanted to kiss them.

“What?” He rose a little, pushing with the hand on Edward’s stomach. 

“No, I just wanted to hear you say that.”

Edward hung his head to the side, grin wide and beautiful and irritating and more shit eating _satisfied_ by the second.

Louis’ mouth fell open, realising what had happened and how much he really _hated_ this boy more so with each day that goes by, but just how much more he hated himself for falling for it. 

“Oh you wretched-,” The pillow to Louis’ right was launched, “You awful- ,” He was up in a flash and efficiently straddling him, beating him with said pillow, “I actually felt sorry for you, you horrible, _horrible_ -” 

“-No need for violence,” Edward tutted, shielding his face from the various angles of attack, “I can’t help that you’re such a sap for all that gushy - _ah_ , bullshit.”

Laughter erupted from both parties, Louis growing more determined to get a good strike in from the realisation of how if this were anyone else he would’ve been outrageously offended by now, but because it was _Edward_ an exception was unwillingly made to the rules. It took a mere further six seconds for Louis to lose his balance and for Edward to swoop in and snatch the opportunity, ripping the pillow with one hand right out of his possession and throwing it half way across the room before seizing those bony wrists and holding them out spread eagle, disabling any further attempts. 

“You’re weaponless now my sweet.”

Adrenaline had them wired. Edward’s eyes drinking in the temptation before him; rapid breath and flushed cheeks, mussed hair and spread thighs. Those thighs. So slim but full. Perfect for biting. Where Edward was bulk and brawn, Louis was fine and tight. Not a muscle on him that didn’t serve a purpose, moulded from such a precise art. Edward felt as though he’d been spat out from Satan himself ready and waiting for him to commit the sins he’s constantly fending. The t-shirt was a decision he may or may not regret. It’s near enough oversized on Louis and screams how dainty his proportions are in comparison, as if he needed any more motivation to take advantage. 

“Weaponless… and _weak_.” 

Edward’s smile reached his eyes and Louis had already accepted his defeat. Knew there was no real fight in the first place. The only struggle now, was to resist that delicious urge again, clamping his jaw shut to keep from making any indication of being aware of what was growing and pushing underneath his bottom as the room started to grow a little foggier once more. 

He stuck his bottom lip out, arms still held out to the side by Edward and sighed.

“Is there any advantage I have w…” Louis began, but faded out when he caught the widened eyes and tightened grip, “What? What is it?” 

The elder’s face suddenly dropped all at once then, torso sitting bolt up right to meet Louis’ flush before he could say anymore.

“Edward?”

Sharp eyes were locked onto Louis’, flicking to somewhere behind him and back again, making it crystal clear that his mind was entirely not in this room. His wrists were freed immediately and Edward started to manoeuvre himself from beneath him, making to get out of the bed and guiding Louis gently off him the best he could without one of them getting tangled and falling flat on their face.

“ _Shit_ ,” Edward was spooked and Louis could do nothing but stare, non the wiser, his heart beating for an entire different reason but with the same throttle as before, “Shit okay Louis I need you to stay calm, whatever happens just _stay_ -”

The door opened with an alarming gusto. It was heavy and larger than most and when it hit the wall with a reverberating bang, the third addition to the room had already covered half their path towards the bed. 

Edward finished pushing Louis off him and stood in nothing other than his underwear. He launched himself in front of his Brother before he got within reaching distance of the boy, who, as soon as he saw his face had backed up as far as he could to the headboard and into the array of pillows layered there. 

“ _Harry_.” Edward, despite being absolutely caught off guard was quickly coming to and was an identical stance before him, his bare body an all too real reminder of what strength lies beneath Harry’s attire and the damage it could do if they were combined; be it opposing or allied.

Harry didn’t allow his attention to falter from the smaller boy, curling into himself on the bed, knuckles matching the pale shade of the sheets as he held on for whatever security he had left there. He stared, cold and focused as he dropped the pair of shoes at the foot on the bed, making an echoed landing that had Louis flinching and his lip trembling. Those eyes were slicing through him, red rimmed and glassy as his jaw remained clenched. His breath shook and he maintained it for a second longer before stepping back and blinking away the blurriness, no words needed as the message was received loud and clear. 

Edward didn’t even look at the shoes. Kicked himself internally for forgetting such a _stupid_ fucking detail, but didn’t look. Didn’t want to risk losing his focus on his twin for longer than a second. He felt around behind him with his foot to locate the top he knew he’d dropped there earlier, bending down slowly to retrieve it.

“Harry…” Then tried again, swiftly pulling the black top over his head and holding his arm up immediately ready to brace something, “Please, this looks worse than what it is.”

Up until this point, Harry had paced lightly, pushing his hair up and pulling on it so hard it had to be painful. But something about that sentence ripped right through him. Either that or the audacity of Edward even _attempting_ to make this out be something it clearly isn’t riled him beyond console and really, _really_ he’d just been waiting for him to make a dumb comment like that as an excuse to make the first move anyway.

Harry’s fist met Edward’s jaw with such clout Edward lost his footing, head whirring from a blur of knuckles.

There was a gasp in the background but neither twin heard it. Ears ringing, Edward stumbled back and right into one of his bedside tables, fingers gripping at the lip of it desperately so he wouldn’t fall completely whilst his vision realigned. 

He may have possibly deserved that. 

Up. He had to stand up straight. 

But Harry hadn’t finished and wasn’t going to give him any time to recover as two hands were at his scruff again yanking him forward and away from the bed where Louis lie, his conscious allowing him this much sense, pulling him up so they were face to face.

“Why do it Edward?” Words were spat, faces nearly becoming one with their proximity, “You can and always have had anybody so why Louis?”

Warning deprived, another blow landed to Edward’s face. A misaimed punch, piercing the skin somewhere around his eye socket. Edward staggered back again, that ringing getting louder, Harry’s mind on a constant volume peak by default anyway, that the desperate shouts besides them still went unnoticed.

“You know how much he means to me, of all the things, all the _shit_ you've done," His fists were tight at his side, " _why_ couldn’t you let me have this?” 

He never had anything. But Edward knew what he meant and that was all that mattered.

Harry groaned, ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends a little as he stalked back and forth, a succession of broken noises pushing through his teeth before he turned around and with one arm swiped everything clean off of Edward’s desk. 

Something smashed, pages tore and everything else was a mess on the floor or splattered against the wall, various pots of ink falling down the wallpaper. But it wasn’t enough. Somewhere behind him, Harry heard his name being screamed, a plead maybe, but he didn’t care. Not right now. The lamp. The lamp was still plugged in and hanging by it’s chord.

If Edward had looked back from fussing Louis a second later he’d have been out cold. But he dodged it by a hairs’ breadth and staring down at the shattered glass, listening to Louis' breathless, ‘ _oh my god, oh my god_ ’, he burnt a hole into his Brother. Anger pressing it’s pedal to the floor, quickly approaching that tipping point to which if he were to succumb to, wouldn’t come back from it.

“Think about what you’re doing Harry, listen to my voice,” It pained him to stay calm himself, “ _Listen_ to what I’m saying.”

The air smelt like sex. The pheromones suffocating. And Harry was crying again. 

The tears lodged between every breath, making it a task to stay conscious. Catching on every word, delivering them with more sentiment to Edward’s heart than if they were merely shouted. 

But then the floorboards rumbled with the weight of the two boys, Edward just having properly regained his posture again, huffing at the armful of Harry he suddenly had, hissing at the tight sting on his cheek, pretty sure the left side of his face had tripled in size already. He heaved Harry away, pushing with all his might to get the rigid hand from his jaw. He shook his head. Blinking once, twice, three times at the black haze cornering his vision.

“ _Answer_ me!” Harry’s voice, like never before, roared.

And Edward’s attention had never been snapped up so quickly, eyes surveying his Brother’s, looking at the crazed and desperate soul that lies behind their lamented exterior. 

“I will but you have to let me explain, Har- _Harry_ ,” He caught Harry’s wrists, but they weren’t easy to contain as they were quickly snatched back by the owner with a growl, “Harry mate, remember how you like to jump to conclusions? Yeah? Remember how we always talk about that habit o- _ah_ -,”

His body weight doubled as Harry piled all of his into his hale arms and pushed Edward into the wall, ignoring the crack of his head hitting the plaster, leaning in quick and doing nothing but staring for an extended moment before pushing a breath out his nose and baring his teeth the way he does when he’s seething, “Don’t insult my intelligence Brother by telling me I’m jumping to a conclusion here, when I walked in on him astride your _lap_.”

Edward looked at him. He wanted to grin at the memory, despite his present position. 

Instead he stared right back at the fire in his eyes, the exhausted little red veins from too much crying, too much pain, too much everything for his heart and his mind to cope anymore. 

But when did Edward care? 

So he jabbed at Harry’s mid section, letting out a breath at the precise aim, he was winded. Harry’s torso gave and Edward drove his knee up _hard_ , felt like bashing flesh covered steel, but it did the job and Harry retreated from the wall with a haggard cry, clutching at his lower ribs.

Fuck, if only he could finish the job.

“Stop this, okay,” Edward was breathing heavy, they both were, but he could feel a pair of sea blue eyes on him and for that he needed to bring it back, “Harry let’s calm do-”

There was a sour pain, copper in his mouth as Harry’s strong hands found their position at his neck again. Edward caught the flash of movement in the corner of his eye, throwing a hand out to the boy to stop him from coming any closer, to which he obeyed, didn’t move back, but stayed put. 

“ _Why_ can’t I have something without you taking it away Edward?”

Edward shook his head, made a strangled noise to grab his attention, angling his eyes towards Louis when he saw him reaching for the phone. Ringing whoever, the police, their parents, any authority was absolutely not the solution here.

Edward kicked at his knee, it gave for a second, Harry groaned, but he was too quick and regained his precedence with a knee against the wall between Edward’s thighs. Holding him there with a determination he could not match.

“ _Why_ Brother, this is all I want to know,” Harry hadn’t stopped crying, sniffed grossly before adding, “you keep talking _shit_ but you’re not telling me why.”

But if there were ever a testament that crying was not in any way, shape or form a weakness then this was it. Because throughout, with tears drying on his cheeks, fresh ones spilling on the constant, vision impaired and a heavy heart to suit he’d adopted no less than a ferocious force, an unrelenting violence as he continuously swung for his sibling. Nothing was weak about Harry but his heart and self-regard.

Edward went to speak but choked, a hot palm pushing further into his oesophagus.

“I hate you,” Harry bit his lip. Lies. Besides the betrayal committed by him he will always love his Brother, his family, his _blood_ no matter what. But a small part of him with still remain bitter, “I hate you for this.”

Edward’s head spun.

“P-please… not… in front-,” Edward bared his teeth, gritting them from the excruciating pain he was all too familiar with that came from the heavy squeeze of hands around his neck, “- _L-Lou..._ ”

He pushed his name through a strained breath, gripping Harry’s wrists with equal strength that he knew couldn’t be utilised. He didn’t want to push him off. He couldn’t show the same carriage of violence for Louis to witness like that, if it took mild humiliation to maintain his loyalty then so be it; he would take a beating from his Brother to allow his show to carry on as scheduled rather than let his ego come out to play and give him as good as he got.

Harry frowned, not used to this display of surrender. He wanted his Brother to fight back a little more, couldn’t understand why he wasn’t; why he was holding back like this.

But the name still got to him. Through the savage mayhem of his mind, staring at his Brother with so much _hate_ as he did, the sadness that suffocated him earlier came sailing back and his face relaxed with the thoughts that distilled his anger, looking at his twin like he’d just reminded him of the most important thing. Which of course, he had. Because even through all of this, he couldn’t blame Louis, couldn’t be _mad_ at Louis for simply following a natural course of desire.

It was in a dream like state, that he allowed his hands to loosen and eventually fall, eyes drifting down and becoming more sore with every passing second. 

From here, all it took was one tiny glance in Louis’ direction and the crippling grief hit his heart like a bullet train, incapable of taking the look of _pity_ he had returned. He couldn’t handle pity. Anger, disapproval, anything but that. Especially from him.

Louis was pale, skin damp. His face wearing a mask of pure terror. Sat at the edge of the bed closest to them now, eyebrows raised and lips swollen and red - glossy eyes just the same, he shook his head slowly at him, clutching even harder at the trim of the mattress.

It occurred only then to Harry, that not only had he just admitted his adoration for Louis, but had showcased yet again, the hideous monster he’s desperately trying to make the dearest boy believe he is not.

He’d done that. 

Twice in one night.

Harry’s heart hammered. He’d brought this beautiful boy, the only one who had ever really mattered, to tears, he were the reason for the contorted fear on such sublime, pure features. 

“I’m sorry…” Harry stepped back, shaking his head and even though it hurt his stomach to look, felt overwhelmingly sick as his mind was already reeling off the consequences of his most recent afflictions, still gazed upon Louis clutching the material of _Edward’s_ t-shirt at his chest and repeated himself over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I- i’m just so sorry, I-”

Harry limped a little, stepping back and over the broken glass. 

A silent tear fell as he hung his head, sobs hiccuping from his mouth and he shook his head at nothing. Squeezing his eyes shut, a few more rung out. 

He missed the out stretched arm of Edward and turned on his heels, fast and without another word, audibly picking up speed as he took the corridor. 

For a moment, a sickly silence settled. 

With the dust settling, a void opened up somewhere deep inside Louis’ chest with his departure. A space that makes him feel cold and too aware of the blood pumping through his veins. 

His body seemed to react without thought, moving around on auto pilot. Nothing about his actions were pre planned, he hadn’t weighed anything up nor had he he even realised he was doing it until Edward questioned him, a croaked outrage of _‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’_ or something like that.

“Edward,” Louis was buttoning up his dark grey suit pants, just looking at them bringing back the memory of getting ready hours ago, for a night with Harry. _Harry_ , who he’d cruelly abandoned for his own selfish desires of wanting to be safe and comfortable and with Edward, “I can’t leave him, not again.”

“Are you- you’re kidding aren’t you?” Edward’s voice was just a floating sound, Louis avoiding eye contact as he were already pulling on his shirt.

“He’s upset, he’s clearly very…” Louis looked at Edward then, thumbing his lip and wincing at the print of blood on his skin as he stepped forward off the wall, “-my goodness look at you.”

Louis scurried up to him, instincts pushing him to cup his face but the state of it stopping him dead. He traced his jaw lightly, fingers dragging over the violent colouring and let out an involuntary whimper at the sight. Edward pulled away though, covering Louis’ hands with his own and folding them into bony fists before kissing them.

“Edward you need to get that seen to, please let me take you to-”

“-this, is minor. I’ve suffered worse without medical attention princess I’m fine. I’m far more concerned about you.”

Louis knew he wouldn’t budge with the injuries. It was difficult to look at him, when all he wanted to do was kiss them better, “You should be bothered about your Brother.” 

He stretched up and gave a shaky kiss to the curve at the edge of his lips.

“No, let him breath,” Edward bent a little, so he didn’t have to reach so far, panning a large hand up his back, “he needs to be left alone.”

“B-but he was distraught, I’ve never seen someone so upset like that and it’s all my fault I can-”

Edward wasn’t going to let him finish that. He had to cut this off right away.

“-absolutely nothing is your fault. Harry has brought every bit of this on himself and he knows that. He’s only mad at himself.” Edward ignored the urge to flex his jaw, his Brother’s onslaught making his head hazy and weighted.

“But we can’t just _leave_ him!” Louis was outraged, brandishing a hand in the direction of Harry’s exit, “What if he does something stupid like hurt someone else or- Edward what if he hurts himself, no we cannot let him-”

Louis was at the door now, Edward close behind. 

“-He’s _dangerous_ Louis, so yes we can,” He held onto Louis’ slim arm, pulling him backwards, “he’s in no fit state to listen to reason and will think nothing of hurting even you with the place he’s at right now.”

Maybe he was right. 

There was actually no doubt about the plausibility of Edward’s statement and even as he looked at his face, bust lip and bleeding forehead Louis evaluated all possible outcomes of him following Harry and they were all very negative. The odds were against him, knowing that probably nothing could be salvaged from perusing him, but that still wasn’t going to stop him for giving it his best shot. 

“I have to try.”

Apparently, Louis had grown more defiant than even he thought was possible since he’d been crash-landed into the Styles lives. Either that, or just more plain stupid. Because he was on his tiptoes, landing a soft kiss to Edward’s bruised lips before he apologised quietly and took off without looking back. Already regretting turning his back on him like that, but not willing to let the other one go either. He was a boy truly torn. And had lost sight of how he’d managed to get here in the first place.

Edward let him go. 

Watched his tight, agile little body jog down the corridor and out of sight. He couldn’t always win. 

Besides, tonight had been a success for his corner, injuries aside. It was worth it. And added perfectly to the anti-Harry manual he was working off.

It still anguished him though, knowing Louis was going to be a victim to Harry’s innocence any moment now, knowing that Harry wouldn’t _really_ hurt him like that. Knew full well Harry would rather kill himself than merely pluck a hair off of that boy’s precious body. And that’s why, through various incoherent grumbles to nobody but himself he dragged his aching body, faux act completely dropped now out of sight of the one who it was all concocted for, back into the heart of his dimly lit room and straight for his bedside table.

He punched in the contact, twisted his neck until he felt it crack and lifted it to his ear, eyes empty and body still as he waited for the line to pick up.

He sighed and closed his eyes when he heard the voice on the other end.

“Yeah, I need you to do me a favour.”

 

 

*

 

 

Long legs would always have the advantage, but Louis had speed. He was quick as a cat, darting back down the corridor, only nearly falling over _once_ on the stairs as his bare feet double stepped each other.

Just before he’d left Edward’s room he’d heard a couple of terrible bangs. So logically, it had to be the front door. 

Opening it, Louis took a moment to wonder where on earth their parents where. And why had the security men that had assisted them at the Theatre just took off so quickly? Did they even hang around after? Did they just drop him off and leave? When it was clear Louis had left the concert Harry was probably visibly upset, so had they spoken to him at all? Or was he left to sit it out alone, in the quiet, everyone around him ignoring the obvious betrayal that had taken place. 

God. Louis hadn’t known what it felt like to feel so guilt ridden. 

He had to stop the drivel of speculation playing swings and roundabouts in his head or else he’d break down on the spot. 

The gravel crunched something wearisome under his feet, the night air had turned strangely cold for mid July as the soft wind whipped around the bare skin at his face, his neck and his trembling hands. He flexed them, wincing at the clamminess.

“ _Harry?_ ” 

He felt a little stupid, calling out his name like that. It’s not like he could’ve gone far. They lived in a gated community and the houses were set in the middle of absolutely nowhere so unless he’d managed to back out in a car in record time or took off into a field on foot, he should be pretty close by.

And Louis may have _screamed_ , when he got his answer. 

It was more of a drawn out squeak, from sheer surprise if anything, but he turned towards the engine that had powered up from behind him at the far side of the house, a mechanical device - that he soon discovered was one of the garage doors - merging with the throttling sound.

“Harry!” Now he really did feel stupid as there was no way he’d hear him over that racket, picking up a little speed to the car reversing out steadily, “Harry wait!” 

But the car didn’t stop.

So Louis stepped forward, stepping lightly as to avoid the wheels to what looked like an Audi A6 - a side dish of a thought offered up as to exactly _how_ many vehicles one family actually needed - and tapped at the window. Just incase he still hadn’t looked.

But, to Louis’ horror, the car still continued to reverse. 

And well colour Louis offended, but that was the last thing he expected to happen.

Upset or not, he wasn’t going to just plainly _ignore_ him like that, disregard the fact he’d fled after him and nearly tripped down several hundred steps on the way, all to make sure he was okay. No. 

The car had turned now, with considerable speed, tyres crunching over the gravel as they pivoted, took off with a throaty rumble around the water feature and towards the long drive, where the road narrowed at the only way in and out of the property.

So, making a mental note to get round to booking that therapist when he next has the chance, Louis takes a breath and hurtles towards that junction, coming to a skidding halt as he placed himself right in the middle of the passage and right in front of the car.

When the crunching sound came to a screeching stop, Louis opened one eye, slightly blinded by the headlights. The sound of a car door opening made the other ping open on the double.

“Are you bat shit crazy?”

Louis threw a hand up to cover the powerful beams, squinting to check that sentence actually came out of Harry’s mouth.

“Are you completely out of your _mind_ Louis Tomlinson?” Harry left the door wide open as he took up a quick stride straight towards Louis, “I could’ve ran you over you, you…”

There was something humorous in there, somewhere, but it was entirely inappropriate to process any of it with a light heart with the events of the evening, so Louis bit the inside of his cheek and tipped his chin, “But you didn’t.”

They stood for a moment, in the light of the headlights, Harry towering over him and Louis getting neck and arm ache from shielding the strobe attack. 

“Can’t you take a hint?”

“Are you familiar with the word, _stubborn_?” Louis smiled, tight but surprisingly genuine.

“Please move.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort Styles.”

He couldn’t see him clearly, just a warped half lit version of him, but he didn’t need to as that voice brought home the reasons why he were behaving so ridiculous in the first place. 

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m above physically removing you myself.” From the weak light, he was unsure if Harry gave him a once over then or just blinked a little weird, “I’d much prefer not to though.”

Louis couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at that comment. So what it was more of snort than a laugh but it earned him a raised eyebrow from the beanstalk of a boy, _that_ he could see clearly. 

“Where are you going Harry?” Louis questioned seriously, shifting his weight onto the other foot, tilting his head the opposite way too.

“Out. Please, move.” 

“Well I’m coming with you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it.”

“Well I’m afraid you’ll have to,” Louis cleared his throat, serving the deepest voice he could emulate, “ _physically remove_ me then.”

It was Harry’s turn to laugh. Whether it was genuine or bitter from not wanting to listen to Louis’ protests for a minute longer Louis didn’t care, it was a pleasant sound and he wanted more of it. It had always been such a lovely sound.

_‘This isn’t the real Harry’_

Edward’s voice really had, one hundred percent replaced that of his own in his mind. Completely bled through the resistance that he was weak to from the beginning, his words a steady mantra in the back of his mind whenever he were in Harry’s company for too long.

_‘His ability to control people’s perceptions is impeccable’_

Just when he’s bringing down that guard, do Edward’s warnings rise up like bile from the darkest corner of his memory. Phrases, words, short reminders of Harry’s instability on a consistent replay when Louis even _thinks_ about giving him a chance. 

He must’ve zoned out a bit because Harry was shaking his head and saying it doesn’t matter.

“Wait, what? _What did you say?_ ” Louis gripped Harry’s arm, the thick material of the suit a silky smooth texture under his fingertips. 

Harry, forever weak to Louis’ touch, peered down at him with a curious look. 

“If you promise to keep it to yourself, I would love to have you come,” He rolled his lips, staring down at his hand that he wasn’t allowed to touch, the fact Louis could him though destroying him from the inside out, “although you’ll have to forgive me if I appear rude at intervals, it’s quite painful to look at you for longer than a few seconds at present.”

And for the first time since they’d met five or six years ago, after all this time of knowing each other but not _knowing_ each other, Louis felt like that was the most honest thing he’d said to him yet.

 

 

*

 

 

“Please, let’s not talk about anything? Not tonight. By tomorrow, or whenever you want, I will have that discussion with you, but please I don’t think I can take it tonight.”

Louis felt obliged to comply. A million questions lay at the back of his throat, some more pressing and itching on the tip of his tongue, an anxiety making his insides _crawl_. But he had to remember the reason why he chose to follow him. 

“Okay.”

Not to push, not to agitate him further. He wanted to make sure he was alright, soothe over the aftermath of something that isn’t good for a lost soul like his. Someone who shouldn’t be this sad, this angry so young.

Now actually in a small capsule with him, two feet between them things were a lot different. He was sorely aware of the volatility next to him. Fragile heart aside, this boy could snap with the slightest thing and now he were alone he had no idea what to do if he did.

They’d been in the car for no longer than eleven minutes when Harry pulled off the main road and onto a rickety country path, just wide enough for the chassis to lug along. But if that got Louis’ nerves a little sparked, he had to grip the sides of his seat when he pulled off the road altogether, car bumping and rumbling over the grass and rocky ground. 

He hadn’t asked where they were going, just trusted Harry to know what he were doing.

And under thirty seconds they had pulled up and round to a break in the trees, all the shrubs and larger rocks had become smaller and there was a visible stream glistening from the moonlight’s kiss, which, when they pulled up fully he could see opened up onto the river.

“I’d normally get out,” Harry’s voice was thick from not speaking for a while, “but you’re cold so, here will do.”

“Thanks.” Why did he feel shy? Not scared as such anymore, just, nervous, “so you just come out here and what, sit?”

Harry nodded, let his belt slide off his torso, snapping back into place and sighed gently. It was so quiet Louis could’ve been forgiven for thinking he was just breathing a little strangely. 

It’d been a long time since he’d been outside at this hour, the moon something he’d often find himself staring at in the early hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep because he had a big performance the next day or his mind was just too wired to welcome even the idea of sleep. The moonlight was always one of Louis’ favourite things, secretly. Never spoke about it though, afraid of coming across a little too poetic but looking at Harry like this, it’s graceful caress making the sharp, long lines of his face an ever more majestic semblance, he found himself falling in love with it all over again.

There was something so stripped down about it. Harry lifting his face a touch to peer out a little further, then closing his eyes altogether. As if he were immersing himself into something Louis couldn’t understand. And he didn’t want to. There was a look about him that he’d never witnessed before, felt intrusive for being here now and getting to have a peek at this moment which felt like it should have been private. And when he realised, when he placed what it was, well, he could cry.

He was calm.

His chest, his stomach, his _head_. Everything was a rotating disaster less than fifteen minutes ago but in this silence came tranquility, this darkness that understands nothing but what it uncovers by nature. And Louis swears he feels that hole in his chest closing, so very slowly.

He picked his eyes back open when there was a shuffle and hiss at his side, followed by a muffled curse, which was apologised for shortly after.

Louis’ eyes darted over Harry’s form, doubled over a little but then he hissed even more and tried to straighten his back up against his seat. 

“What’s going on,” Louis turned and forgot his belt remained in tact, unclasping it when it pulled harshly across his chest, “Are you hurt?”

The question hung over their heads in obscene colouring, flashing bright like a lit up broadway sign. Of course he was hurt. Flashbacks of the attack conveniently played out on a showreel in his mind’s eye.

“No it’s- it’s really nothing,” Harry couldn’t bring himself to look at him just yet, felt so rude about it but was really left with no choice if he didn’t want to break down again, “just caught myself at an odd angle is all.”

“Harry,” Bravery? A misplaced arrogance? Loss of patience? Whatever it was got his hand scaling down the front of Harry’s shirt, fingers resting atop his breast bone, “How bad is it?”

The answer depended on what he were asking. Several things were a solid ten on the scale of how _bad_ they were right now, but the pain from his Brother’s affliction was a minus four when compared to the agony of having Louis’ hands on him, so soft and intimate and not being able to return the advance.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you forgetting I was in the room? Something cracked.”

Harry licked his dry lips, not looking up from the delicate fingers tracing soft circles absentmindedly on his buttons, “If… my ribs were broken, I’d be in an extortionate amount of pain right now.”

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t bruised Harry, he delivered quite a kick.”

Louis popped a button then and Harry said a silent prayer, hand gripping the steering wheel where it lay at the bottom.

“Let me look…”

“Louis I,” He couldn’t stop his breath from quickening, nor could he lessen the horrid discomfort that came with it; his ribs not holding out so well with the exertion, “-I don’t think it’s, I don’t- ribs heal on their own even if they are… and plus - you know,” Harry doubted anyone knew what the _fuck_ he was rambling on about, “Louis what are you doing, it’s really okay.”

Unlike Edward, Louis had to be the one to take charge. He called the shots when it came to little things like this, physically Harry may burst into flames if he initiated any type of contact so he had to take the reins. He popped the buttons to his shirt, telling him to shut and stop being so stubborn. 

By now Louis had learnt to censor his surprise to a certain degree. Expect the unexpected ,if you will. 

Saying this, it was no secret to anyone that the twins were identical in most ways but the psychological, this including their physiques. But it still shook Louis to the core, his tummy twisting weirdly when the shirt hung open and revealed an unmistakable heavy set foundation beneath. Chest muscles that were toned and taught with delicious, solid curve after curve of dipped muscle just beneath, making it public knowledge that Harry too, had a body calved to a tempting perfection.

But that wasn’t it. 

And after a second or eight of gathering his sensical brain power, Louis looked past the miracle of the male physique and brought his attention to the rather loud, rather obvious and entirely more remarkable affair of the tattoos imprinted on his skin. Two which looked like birds of some kind, facing the other on each pectoral and another at the apex of his abdominals, sitting at the centre, just beneath his pectorals.

“That’s an interesting piece,” Louis hadn’t censored _all_ thoughts though, aware of his staring and tried to come off as casual as possible, “why a butterfly?”

Despite his disposition, Harry pushed all urges to the back of his mind. Right back there, with a gulp to finalise it and a breath to ready his focus on giving Louis a proper answer, after all, his body art meant a lot to him and so did Louis. And he shall treat such things with respect.

“B-butterflies are known for their extreme transformation, the most prudent of which may be physical but with that change comes a lot of internal shifting too and so, I guess I like to think of myself as something to suit,” Harry raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling so bright Louis thought the moon should perhaps retire, “never stuck to one person, constantly evolving.”

Louis held back any comment about his schizophrenic tendencies.

“No limits.” Louis’ wide eyed wonderment, his authentic interest in what Harry was telling him was paralysing, so endearing and made Harry believe that if he were to kiss him right now, tonight would be forgotten, reversed maybe. It wasn’t fair. “Right?” 

He hated himself.

“Exactly,” His face lit up regardless though, showing his appreciation of Louis’ understanding, “the only limits you meet in life are the ones you set yourself.”

“That’s…” Louis’ voice was a soft lullaby, eyes gazing so intently at Harry when something made him veer, “beautiful. Harry is that a banana skin?”

Harry had the most wonderful pout playing on his lips, looking utterly perplexed as he looked down to his inked torso and back at Louis with a massive question mark hanging above his head. That was until Louis leant forward and it was clear he were looking past him, somewhere behind Harry and a little lower than eye level and-

“Oh!” Harry’s cheeks singed with the easy sting of embarrassment, once he clapped eyes on the banana skin half flopped over his door compartment next to a leather sponge. Wordlessly he wound down the window and flicked it out, pulling his mouth into a funny tilt, “I thought I’d gotten rid of that.”

Louis paused his mini onset of giggles to gasp in mock horror, “You just littered!”

“Lou, they’re biodegradable.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Louis frowned, tipping his chin in acknowledgment, “forgot about that.”

Louis had been smiling for so long, a smirk just coming too easy at the moment and it honestly, really shouldn’t. But he didn’t think of that too long. Not when things felt settled for once.

“We can leave whenever you like,” Harry broke the silence, staring down at their hands both resting on the centre console, unbearably close right now. Still feeling like he couldn’t touch, “It’s nearly midnight, aren’t your parents wondering where you are?”

Every hair on Louis body rose with the realisation he’d yet again, left his phone in his car. All the way back at the Styles residence.

“I’ve… I left my phone in my car.”

“That was wise.” 

Harry’s sarcastic jibe pulled at the fondness in Louis’ heart, a side to Harry that he probably felt like he wasn’t allowed to fully embrace, never felt confident enough in his presence to emit such behaviour. 

Louis rolled his eyes, smiled though, as he peered out at the water, rippling now, “My brain has been held at arms length from my body tonight, I’ve not done much right.”

Harry thought it best to withhold comment. Taking this chance to drink in Louis properly for the first time tonight, hair mussed and sticking up in a wild degree against the head rest, eyelashes fanning out against the pale hue the moonlight painted his skin. Soft lips resting easy on a comfortable smile.

“Plus we’ve not been here long, don’t you stay longer?”

“I do, sometimes I get lost for hours down here,” Harry gazed back through the window again, lips twitching a little just as the wind picked up and the long hanging branches, the weak ones rustled with it, “but I’ve found peace a little easier tonight.’

Harry hummed and let his head fall against the head rest, enjoying the sound of nothing once more. Not a moment of trepidation. Neither boy uncomfortable in the other’s company. A silent, unspoken _something_ between them that they both understood.

Until, “Harry?”

“What, I swear I don’t eat that many bananas,” Harry was already looking for the offending item, before Louis’ hand and adorable bubble of giggles cut him off.

“No,” He really couldn’t believe how much he made him want to laugh, even when he wasn’t trying, “no, I thought you said this was a private place that no one else knew about?”

“It is, no one is ever here when I am,” Harry angled his head to gaze at the boy, about to ask him why when the flash of another set of headlights reflected in his rearview mirror, bouncing off all other mirrors soon there after and he honed in on the interference.

“Then who is this?” Louis craned his neck round to look out the passenger window, trying to see if he recognised the car.

Harry was obviously thinking the same thing, but wasn’t willing to wait around and find out as the sound of keys in the ignition turned and the engine rumbled to life beneath them. Louis whipped his head round and down, frowning at the seat belt clicking back into place.

He placed his hand on the steering wheel, small next to Harry’s when he tapped Louis’ chair and told him to do the same.

“Wait, slow down,” Louis looked back at the sound of the car, a silver Mitsubishi truck, dying out, “we don’t have to leave just because there’s someone else.”

“I don’t like it to share.”

Before Louis could respond, Harry was already unbuckling again, ripping the keys back out the ignition and swinging his door open. It slammed shut again before Louis even blinked. 

Well. 

He knew he was unpredictable and had a tendency to switch up moods faster than most but he was expecting to take more convincing that that. So Louis sighed, squinted through the window and when he saw Harry, his black suit jacket blending a little into the background, he cracked the door and whispered,

“Hey, you know, people generally don’t like it when strangers come up to them in the middle of a-”

But then the Mitsubishi door was open and the driver hopped down. And Louis’ grip tightened on the handle. 

“How happy am I to run into you Styles,” The door was left open as they took a slow stroll to lessen the gap, “Long time, no see and that.”

Ben.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Harry’s voice was dangerous again and Louis didn’t like it. He swung his body out of the vehicle immediately. 

“Well I… oh _shit_ , I’ve won double!” Ben laughed and clapped his hands together, rocking on his heels, “The knight in shining armour _and_ the princess.”

Harry looked at Louis with an indignant plea, wanting him to return to the car. But of course, Louis dismissed all of it, shaking off the look along with Ben’s insult.

“Well I was just passing and I saw some lights not far up the road, thought it was fucking weird for a car to be parked out this far so I came to check it out but,” Ben scoffed at Louis then, looking at him in unmistakable disgust, “the closer I got I recognised the number plate.”

“There’s no way you’d just be passing way out here, you live eight miles out,” Louis probed, but was soon shushed by Harry’s hand a soft presence on his forearm, telling him it was alright.

“I was with a friend.”

His reply was cold, direct and quite frankly Harry didn’t appreciate it.

“Then you can return to them, you’re not wanted here.” 

“You really hang out with this scum?” Ben pointed a finger, palm turned upwards towards Harry and Louis looked at him immediately, with the exposed panel of his chest it was easy to see how his breath was rabbiting away, the palm barely touching his forearm growing warm, “After what he did to Tockwell?”

Harry started a little, finger pointing, “ _Don’t_ , mention that name.” 

Louis didn’t think twice about it, winding his hand up and into Harry’s, squeezing firmly, waiting and watching until he eventually felt Harry apply some pressure back. 

He lowered his finger and Ben laughed, looked at him like he wanted him to try. Looked at Louis like he was ravenous. Harry lowered his head, eyes narrowing. His cinch on that slight hand tightened involuntarily and Louis only pushed into his side further, not minding the discomfort from his huge paw. 

“You know he’s partially blind in the left eye now.” That came as a shock to the both of them and it must’ve shown as Ben continued, nodding,“Yeah, yeah you managed to do a mint job on him mate,” 

“He deserved everything he got.” Harry’s voice was shaken though, void of the confidence from before.

“He was out of his skull drunk and made a stupid mistake,” Ben’s eyes flew over to Louis before they were back on Harry, “but he didn’t deserve _that_.”

“Let’s go.” Louis decided enough was enough. Should’ve turned around and left as soon as Ben stepped foot on the ground. He tugged the hand that he had a hold of, using his other arm to brace his bicep too so he could pull a little harder.

But Harry pulled back, taking little effort to pull Louis with him.

“The fact you’re justifying his actions as a mistake, confirms everything I already knew about you.” Harry was a little closer than before and Louis dug his heels in to stop him going any further, “If I ever, _ever_ see you speak about him, defend him or any such thing in front of Louis again like that I will have no issue doing a thorough job on your eyesight.”

Ben swallowed, clearly a little put off by Harry’s direct brutality. Even though he were just as tall and a little beefier than him Louis has to bite down the smile at the way his threat had clearly got him shaken. 

Which, he by no means approved of it. Absolutely not.

“Christ, Styles,” Ben scoffed, trying to clamber back what resolve he had left, “you really do go zero to a hundred don’t you? No warning, no build up just _boom_ -“

Harry turned back from walking Louis back to the passenger side, eyes fixed on Ben’s, hand turning pale on the door frame.

“This is your warning.”

Harry closed the door once Louis was back in and was buckling up. Not wasting another glance in his direction, he got in the drivers side and the car shuddered when he pulled the door shut. 

 

*

 

Harry took the long route back. Violating the speed limit the entire way. 

He wanted to throw Ben off, just incase he was following. Which he explained to a petrified Louis who had to keep from hurling as they took corners way too fast and the bushes lining the road skimmed past his window screen.

Also, what could remain unspoken, was he wanted to drag out the time he had alone with the delectable little being. Harry thoroughly enjoying his human antidote to all the pain in the world. Never mind that he was also part of the root.

The Styles gates, iron black and beyond ten feet tall groaned as they opened, metal gnawing along it’s mechanics as Harry pulled onto the gravel drive and up to their house. They didn’t draw out their goodbyes, Louis fighting fatigue as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand trying to thank Harry but it coming out sounding like a disgruntled cow as he yawned.

“I’m sorry?” 

Harry looked away from the window at the top far hand corner, the drapes twitching back into place, twirling his keys around his long fingers.

“Thank you,” Louis nodded, beeping the door to his Porsche, “For letting me come tonight.”

Harry smirked, biting his lip and failing miserably at hiding his impurities.

Louis wondered what was so funny until he heard it on replay.

“Oh god, okay,” He scrunched his nose, “alright, you know what I mean.”

Harry giggled and Louis’ heart nearly punched him in the face, “I do and you have nothing to thank me for.”

“You know, you and my friend Liam, would get on a treat,” Louis rolled his eyes, opening the door and reaching for his phone before waggling it in front of Harry’s face, “here, put your number in.”

Harry looked like he’d been told to recite Einstein’s theory on Quantum mechanics.

“You do know how those things work right?”

Harry smiled, blinked out of his stupor and tapped his number in, saved it under ‘H’ which when Louis realised this later on that night, rolled his eyes at the dramatic noodle. 

“Listen…” Louis started, got Harry to stop and turn around now and now he weren’t sure how to finish it, “don’t, do anything stupid.”

“I don’t think Edward will be wanting to cross paths any time soon.”

“No I don’t mean- well, actually yeah that’s one thing but Edward is your Brother and he loves you and this will be forgiven, he cares so much about you you have no idea,” Louis waited for Harry to respond, but he didn’t. Just gave him a small nod looking like he didn’t believe a word of it. “What I meant was don’t do anything stupid to yourself. I know your head is a little fucked up,” Harry laughed, so painfully in love with this curt little thing, “and you tend to take things on that you shouldn’t. Just, try and forgive yourself.”

Harry’s smile dropped from his face, because _how_. 

How could he know so much? How has he got all this from the small time they’ve spent together? He needed to stop staring. Don’t freak him out Harry, not again, not when he’s just said what he said. Speak. Don't think too much on it, _speak_.

“Forgive myself.” He repeated it, making sure he heard him right.

And he had, because Louis nodded, peering up at him from those four or so inches he lacked, “Because I have.”

While Harry beamed, Louis saw the twitch of curtains for himself this time, Edward, probably. So had to cut this moment short, regrettably. Best for both of them really. 

They bid each other goodnight, slowly at first but then Harry finally realising he really _should_ get moving, looking back to his car once before ducking his head and disappearing inside. And Louis cursed several times out loud to the safety of the inside of his car when he checked his phone and thanked his lucky stars that he unlocked it before handing it to Harry.

He sent a quick reply to Edward before scrolling past a couple of other texts from Percy, Lucy and a few other notifications he wasn’t bothered about. He threw his phone into the passenger seat and kicked into first, muttering to himself about Liam’s carelessness as he pulled off down the drive.

 

**10:03PM**  
_Liam: ‘your silence is alarming’_  
_Liam: ‘not because i’m worried,’_  
_Liam: ‘bc i know he’s probably slamming you into the mattress right now and the thought is a little unsettling’_

**10:58PM**  
_Liam: ‘so a text would be nice'_  
_Liam: ‘just a little flag to say all is well’_  
_Liam: ‘that’s all i’m asking’_

**11:14PM**  
_Liam: ‘i’d just like to take this opportunity to bring to your attention to how RUDE you are’  
Liam: ‘if you didn’t already know’_

**11:33PM**  
_Liam: ‘ok so I’m going to presume I’ll have to start drafting up a best man speech and not an obituary'_  
_Liam: ‘i s2g after tonight i think u owe me’_  
_Liam: ‘yours and Haz’s first born is being named after me’_  
_Liam: ‘this is a written contract, it’s a done deal’_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the person who dislikes Louis, kudos. I wanted him to be innocent and oblivious, but not daft and unrealistic. He's a little brattish, definitely self centred at times and so you picking up on the fact he isn't the perfect little princess is great. To the rest, _thank you_ you're all keeping me well and truly fuelled. I can't help but feel a teeny bit evil though, this plot is slow burning and risky. I say no more. [This](http://66.media.tumblr.com/f91e5148a78fad3219145e204f8b5e93/tumblr_ofh3h0srQz1tqcxu0o1_500.png) inspired the therapy session. 
> 
> **TW: There is a minuscule insight to suicide/overdose in this chapter. Nothing happens and the word itself isn't even used, however the implication is there so please heed the warning.**

_-Four days later-_

 

“Wait, _that’s_ who you think I’m in a relationship with?”

Maybe this was stupid, maybe he wasn’t being serious and Louis had misunderstood what he’d said. Apart from he hadn’t and the look on his face spoke bounds about how he was being absolutely serious when he said this.

“I’m going for the term _casual fucking_ over relationship but yes, you must think I’m the wettest sponge in the sink to have not noticed.” 

“It doesn’t take a situation like this for that news to dawn Liam, trust me.”

“Ah there you go, quintessential Tomlinson response to a touchy subject - _wit_.”

Percy was back in the room with three boxes of pizza balanced expertly on one hand and two lots of four packs in the other, huffing out a laugh like it was the easiest task in the world but the concentrated borderline panicked flush on his face told otherwise.

“S’alright guys party’s here.”

Louis looked up at him, slowly bending down to place the beer on the table, not really listening or caring that his friend was clearly struggling with his balance. He pouted and turned back to Liam, what he said only now reaching his ears.

“Wait, noticed _what_ exactly?”

Percy let out a weird sound and just about managed to save his minor tumble. Just. Neither friend appearing to yet give a crap, freezing with the pizza boxes staggered in a step like structure for a second, before bending slowly and putting them too, on the table. 

“Louis is sleeping with Styles.”

Percy was happy the pizza had touched down or his struggle would’ve been for nothing.

“What?”

“ _What_?” Louis echoed, sitting up so fast as if there were a string attached to his head that had been yanked, “ _Noooo_ , no, _no_. I am _not_ sleeping with Styles-,”

“-but didn’t he got arrested?”

Louis shook his head, “No he’s talking about Edward, Edward Styles, his older Brother.”

“No way.”

“No way exactly,” Louis started, turned back to Liam, “no way have I-,”

“-I’m surprised he hasn’t snapped you in half by now.”

Back to Percy.

“Excu-,”

“-Edward Styles… I mean fucking hell,” Percy ignored his resistance, musing to himself out loud with a small smile as he pulled up the lids to the different boxes, before taking a generous bite out of one and asking between chewing, “What’s that like?”

Louis was ready to fire back a harsh response but.

Liam snapped his fingers.

And he was getting tired of switching between the two boys. He was pointing one directly at Louis’ disapproving face as if he’d just uncovered the most crucial bit of information, “Yes. They are indeed twins.”

“Are we just realising this now or…” Louis was already fed up with where this was going.

“No you see, they’re twins, how could you know who is the elder if you weren’t getting to know one of them on a more shall we say _personal_ level?”

The over analytical bastard cashes in on point one.

“Okay,” Louis scrambled for a reasonable explanation - turns out there were none - and he waves his hand through the air, “it’s not that difficult information to come by, loads of people know that-,”

He was cut off with a wave of denials all at once, both boys looking at each other clarifying that neither of them knew and he dropped his hand with a thud against the soft carpet.

“I see I’m out numbered.”

“Louis your voice,” Liam already had a sense of pride about this sentence and Louis wanted to cut it out of him with a blunt knife, “is light as a feather. Wispy like a summer’s breeze, deep as an infants' bath water-,”

Louis used two hands to rip off the largest slice of pepperoni, “-I hope you have a point.”

Percy snorted around another mouthful, already uncapping a beer and rolling one in Louis’ general direction across the floor.

“My point is Edward’s monotonic grumble is easily recognisable over a phone line especially when compared directly with your own.” 

Louis was lost. So lost. What on earth was he talking about-

“- _especially_ when you shortly follow with the lamest excuse to hang up on me, thinking you’re being oh-so-subtle with your little controlled moans.”

Oh.

“You - _wha-omhyg_ ,” Percy couldn’t finish his mouthful quick enough and Louis risked choking to beat him to it, swallowing an insufficiently chewed mouthful down his throat painfully fast to interject.

“-what are you even talking about Payne?” Louis’ extra squinty expression gave it away that he was lying. He knew he was pretty transparent but he’d be damned if he gave it up now, “You don’t half talk some rubbish.”

But Liam wasn’t looking at him. He’d taken on a smug grin though, impossibly smugger than a moment ago as he peered down at the floor between them, back straight against the sofa he was leaning against as he chewed at leisure. 

“What’re you doing tomorrow at 3?”

Louis turned back from taking a swig - his throat quite sore from swallowing the lump of dough and cheese - to frown at his friend. Actually, at present, _friend_ is a word Louis would skirt around entirely.

“Why?” 

“Well, looks like _H_ would like to know if you’re otherwise engaged at 3.”

Louis moved quick, spluttering with wide eyes as he looked down to his lit up phone screen in Liam’s hands, smiling to himself and moving out of Louis’ reach when he tried to grab it back. 

“Liam-“

“ _-H?_ ”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Is H a code name? For Edward maybe?” Liam wiggled his eyebrows and Louis threw a light, non aggressive but maybe just hard enough to get him to _stop_ , jab to his ribs, making his arm come down so he could retrieve his phone, “H for honey?”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with me and those twins Liam,” Louis muttered, head down, eyebrows together in a focused gaze as he tapped out a reply.

“I still think Harry has a crush on you too though.” Liam nodded, “Do you reckon it’ll cause some unwanted rift between the twins being so you’re fucking his Brother?”

Louis hadn’t managed to finish when:

_H: It’s been changed to 3PM. Is this a problem?_

Another shoots up almost instantly.

_H: Don’t worry if it is, I can change it to suit._

“Liam!” Louis couldn’t believe his ears, he could be quite crude sometimes and really, he was just shocked that he _literally had, no, idea._

Percy was nothing but euphoric laughter, nearly in tears from Liam’s display and Louis found himself holding back the waterworks himself for an entirely different reason. 

“I can’t believe I even have to explain this to you imbeciles, but,” The sound of Louis locking his phone was perfectly in sync with his eye roll, he looked between the two boys dramatically before carrying on, “if you _must_ know, H is for Hannah. You know that girl who I met at the theatre? The one who was in the ballet with Lucy? Yeah she wants to meet tomorrow for coffee.”

Liam squinted, sussing out Louis’ squeakier than usual voice.

“Hannah.” 

“Hannah,” Louis clarified, “from the Ballet. we’re going to be discussing all things musical because she’s an arty fart and that’s why she saved herself as _H_ in my phone because she’s just like that okay?”

“Okay, forget this Hannah for a second,” Percy raised his hands, a slice in each, “the answer I think we all want to know is, would you let the twins double team you?”

Louis, not _that_ innocent but maybe a little more naive - slower - than his friends to catch on straight away pouted before nibbling on the crust, tipping his head back to stop a flaky piece from falling down his chin. 

“What do you mean?”

When Percy placed the pizza slices down and replaced them with two beer bottles, raising them both at the same time to his lips and making an obscene circle over the tips with his tongue Louis’ cheeks practically caught fire and he launched the remainder of his crust.

 

 

*

 

 

Louis took a taxi. 

And unless it’s a pre-arranged, private hire vehicle, Louis will always insist of driving or getting someone he knows to ferry him around. 

He absolutely does not take a taxi. 

And this is why, as he murmurs out the address trying his best to be casual about it he winces as he pinches the seatbelt to buckle himself into the polyester seat, wiggling his bum a little get a comfortable position in the back and tried not to think about the various unknown posteriors that have been parked in this exact spot previous to him. 

But this was it now. This was his life. Lying to his friends and covering his tracks wherever he can. And he doesn’t exactly know why any of it has come to be this way. 

It started off with Liam knowing about Harry and Edward and the whole Ryan incident, thought that would be it. But then there was Edward. Edward and his endless legs and rambunctious charm. He was there and has been ever since really and somewhere along the way Louis slipped into the habit of lying about it. But why? The particular Styles twin has always had a reputation but nothing too bad, nothing that Louis would turn his nose up continually at anyway after what he did for him. He was a little rough around the edges, personality wise sure, plastered in ink and was notorious for being in favour of the physical when it came to settling matters. And winning. But that was it. There was nothing to ruin Louis’ reputation from it; nothing that he would lose - sans a few _comments_ until the novelty had worn off - from telling his closest about his and Edwards’… whatever it is. 

But this weird paradoxical, alternative life he begun to lead didn’t stop at just Edward, because with Edward, comes the other. 

Enter Harry. 

Unlike his twin in so many ways beyond the aesthetics. Edward wore everything on his sleeve; brazen and out there for everyone to see and for him not to give a shit no matter what your opinion. But Harry was abhorrently different and Louis couldn’t and still can’t, quite put his finger on why this is or _what_ it is. 

“Around here mate?”

But Louis had a feeling, that whatever that arcane part of Harry was, it transcended beyond a mental illness.

“Yes, please, number 416.” Louis leant forward, peering through the window to check they were pulling up to the right spot. 

After paying the driver, Louis took a second to note the blacked out Rolls Royce behind him. It was the same one that Harry came in the night he gave him the tickets. He could just about make out a person sat in the driver seat and when he realised the unfamiliar face was staring right back, dropped his gaze instantly. 

He blew out some air, the afternoon too cold again for this late in the Summer and took the steps up to the large matte black door. It had a polished brass knocker in the middle of it and was just as imposing as the rest of the property. It looked like a regular [town house](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/15/8d/28/158d28d8600cdaec729eea9548619499.jpg) alright, tall and slender in it’s build, modern enough. Maybe it was the way it was slightly protruding from the buildings it was wedged between. Like it wasn’t meant for here, like it didn’t belong. Or perhaps the soft amber glow coming from all but one of the windows inside. The black borders contrasting with the clinical white of the brick. 

It was too late that he noticed the intercom just besides one of the lanterns, because after three softer than he would’ve liked knocks later the door was opened almost too soon for them to have _not_ been waiting for him. The thought alone unsettled Louis something rotten and with a ducked head he introduced himself to the lady and thanked her when she stepped back for him to enter. 

He peered at the spectacles sitting low on the bridge of her nose as she glided back behind the front desk, heels clicking. 

“Sign in here please.” Her voice surprised him, snapping out of his gaze to realise he’d been rudely staring and instead took the pen she was offering that was attached by a metal chain, “When you leave, please remember to sign back out.”

The lady tapped away on her keyboard after placing the clipboard on the counter, scanning the screen and then looking back at him through the corner of her eyes as he finished up with his signature. Quickly looking back towards the screen she thanked him and told him to wait in the holding area until instructed otherwise.

It was quaint and just like the outside, the floor was monochrome tiles and the seats were sleek black leather. Low lit wall fixtures where positioned mid-rise, giving the room that warm orange glow that was visible from the outside. 

There were three other people in the waiting area. A middle aged lady who looked like she was juggling between committing suicide and homicide with two small infants running havoc, playing a loud game of musical chairs despite being constantly hushed and warned by said distressed lady. On the other side of the room, there was an elderly man, around 80, dressed in a sweater vest, shirt and brown corduroys with what looked like slippers. He was reading a paper with his half moon glasses resting on the tip of his nose - not a far reach from creepy reception lady - eyebrows rising and falling as he scanned the pages. 

The other person was directly to the right of this fellow, probably thirty something male, dressed in an expensive looking tailored suit, complete with tie that Louis presumed has been tied in a perfect windsor all day but had now been viciously pulled down and to the side, top button popped. He was leant against the coffee machine, watching his paper cup fill up, running a frantic hand through his perfectly groomed hair, the whirring and frothing sounds were the only thing to be heard and filled the room alongside the children’s muffled giggles. He looked stressed. The coffee had finished and after going on to pouring three sachets of sugar in he necked half of it in one gulp, seemingly having a disregard for the temperature. 

“Louis Tomlinson?” 

“Ye-,” Louis would’ve liked to at least get that sentence out smoothly, without stuttering, but upon seeing who had just called his name and was finishing off the last few steps of the stairs, he didn’t hold much hope, “M- _mrs Bundin?_ ”

It had been four days since a shock had been delivered to his system, having managed to maintain a somewhat normal schedule of an 18 year old so he supposed it was overdue. 

“Hello Louis.” As always, she was humbling gentle and those eyes never failed to make his insides feel warm, like he was 9 years old again, “Please, come.”

And he did as he were told. Walking before her up the stairs, feeling weirdly rude for treading the dark navy carpet runner with shoes upon his feet, trying to hold back the pressing question until they at least reached the first floor. He stopped on the landing and looked to her for instruction.

“It’s the last door dear.” She looked at him over the rim of her glasses, until with a sigh, she took them off after a second when he was clearly hesitating, “Go ahead, you can ask.”

He wasn’t going to be ambiguous about it, “What are you doing here?”

She laughed, quite unexpectedly, her belly shaking from it and her cheeks rounding as she shook her head replying in that soft hum, “My dear, I could ask you the same question but Harry has already answered that for me,” The look she gave him then was a knowing one, like she expected him to understand something but there was honestly too much to process for that thing to be one _stand alone_ thing, “Alongside my role as Head of Psychology at the institution, I am first and foremost a Clinical Psychologist specialising in Personality Disorders.”

Louis stared.

“Or, if you rather, Harry’s shrink,” Another laugh bubbled from her, her auburn hair shimmering as she shook, “for four years now.”

Now it makes sense. Something has finally clicked even if it’s the tiniest and most insignificant piece to the puzzle it’s clicked. No wonder she was so affected by his arrest. Accepting what he’d been told with a small nod and saying how he understands why herself and Harry had always gelled so well now, his mind goes back to the distressing scene where he can remember wild green eyes and a distraught old lady, her curt comments about getting in touch with the parents and how it wasn’t fair.

Gosh. Why hadn’t Louis put this together sooner?

Louis takes a breath a few steps away from the last door. He nods to himself, muttering something about it being alright which makes Mrs Bundin slow down with him momentarily, frowning when he comes to a complete stop inches away from the door. He refolds the sleeves of his denim shirt, smooths over his crisp white t-shirt and peers down. He was scuffing the side of his converse without thought, scraping them along the skirting board when a small hand patted his shoulder blade.

“Dear, you look a bit-,"

“-I know I’m sorry it’s just I’m,” Nervous? Prickled so horrendously with a sudden crippling fear that he couldn’t see the very feet he was just staring at, “I’ve never done anything like this before, I don’t know what happens in these kinds of things, I want to help but- but that’s just it,” He licks his lips, talking too fast, mouth too dry, “what if this won’t help? What if me being here only makes it worse?”

The look she awarded him with would’ve been patronising on any other person under any other circumstance.

“Louis, as the person who knows Harry as if he were my own, trust me when I say your presence will have absolutely no negative impact on his progression,” The hand on his shoulder blade was firm for a moment, patted him and then was gone, “I dare say it will have quite the opposite affect. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Louis nods. Okay. Nods again, because alright. He trusted her. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do to put off the inevitable.

“Though I must warn you this,” Apparently there was, “during this meeting things may be uncovered that you perhaps wasn’t entirely aware of, about Harry. Things that may shock you, may make you feel uncomfortable and so forth and so I must tell you that whatever is said, whatever actions are roused in the room must absolutely remain, in that room. This is confidential. A place for people like Harry to come and be open, without judgement. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” He nodded again, feeling like he was unable to do much else, “of course, yes.”

Without further ado, she appeared satisfied with his response and reached of the door handle giving him one last look before turning it. 

Stepping inside, he was greeted first with a warm gush of air, which prompted his attention to be drawn to the artificial fire place on the wall to his left. It must’ve been burning for a while because he felt like he’d stepped into Satan’s lair. 

Which was then, by means of appropriate transitions, when he saw Harry. 

He was sat to his right, on one of the three plush armchairs, all slightly different shades of red and purple. Harry was looking quite rich himself. In a white, modestly patterned shirt and sinfully tight black jeans, hair loose. A more milk chocolate hue than his Brother's darker tones. 

The velvet material of the chairs, the dark wood floor, the fire and the thickest, softest faux fur rug Louis had possibly ever seen added to the intimate accent of the room, inviting you to rest your bones and sink into it’s warmth.

“Hi.” Harry was up, greeting Louis’ arrival with a timid smile.

Louis realised he’d been stood for a while, Mrs Bundin having already closed the door and passed him to take her seat in the plum coloured seat, when he smiled back and took his own, rose coloured, right next to Harry.

“How’re you?” 

Harry waited until Louis was sat before clearing his throat and sitting himself, being a little careful about it and winced when he bent, “I’m okay.”

Lie number one.

“Good,” Louis nodded, _again_ , “good.”

Harry leant over his arm rest, the shirt he donned was open at the top and was making Louis feel weird enough as it was, but now it gaped a little and he was reminded - because he certainly hasn’t thought about it for longer than appropriate since the big reveal - of the absurdly offensive body that he were blessed with. He licked his lips, aware of Mrs Bundin’s eyes on them both as Harry spoke softly, “By the way, my Brother has no idea you’re here.”

“Right,” Louis side eyed Mrs Bundin, “is that wise?”

“Absolutely.” Harry didn’t leave a cold second for his response, “If Edward knew you were here, he’d,” The truth that he was just about to let slip worried him a little as to how easy it was about to come out, “-he just wouldn’t be happy about it that’s all, so when you uh, speak to him please don’t mention this.”

Louis couldn’t understand why Edward would mind _that_ much about him being here. He more than anyone - apart form Mrs Bundin - knows how much Louis means to him and so would probably see this as a stepping stone to bridge the idolisation and whatever instabilities that comes with the unexplainable possessiveness he feels for him that Edward has spoke so vehemently of.

“I’m asking you to lie aren’t I? I shouldn’t ask you to lie,” Harry looked like he realised he’d just asked Louis of the most preposterous thing, “after everything I’ve put you through here I am asking you to do something to make it easier on me.”

Louis was ready to tell him to stop being so silly until he caught that last bit, “Wait, what do you mean easier on you? I thought you didn’t want him knowing because he’d give _me_ a hard time.” 

Harry frowned, eyes skimming over Louis’ softly parted lips, “N-no, he’s forbidden any access.”

He said it as if it was obvious and Louis tried not to laugh, but looking at the legitimate seriousness of Harry’s face was quite hilarious, “ _Forbidden?_ ” 

He snorted, wrinkling his nose at the word.

“I thought you’d know this,” Harry shook his head lightly, a mild panic apparent on his face as he looked to Mrs Bundin for some kind of assistance, “you two have by your own admission, bonded, so I was under the impression he’s told you how he feels ever since the incident at your party…”

Mrs Bundin - who louis had forgotten was there for the smallest of microseconds - chirped in, “Am I right to presume Louis, from what little Harry has told me before your arrival, that you and Edward have found common ground?”

Just as one thing clicks into place, something else gets tied up in knots. Another layer of excruciating confusion was settling on top of the pile of mess in Louis’ fuddled brain when he managed to tear his eyes away from Harry’s jogging knee, “Yeah, we’re- he helped me through a difficult time and um, well, like Harry as as you know,” She nodded, clicking her pen, “and we just started to form a friendship ever since.”

“A friendship?” She repeated, “Would you say this was an unlikely acquaintance?”

“Definitely.” 

Regret lingered from the quickness of it, but Harry’s lips twitched upwards and his knee had stopped jogging so it wasn’t all bad.

“Okay,” She nodded slowly, jotting something down, “so you sounded surprised when Harry mentioned Edward’s resistance towards the idea of you and Harry coming together at any point. Is this not something Edward has spoke to you about?”

“Not like that, no.”

Edward was always telling him how he just wanted to protect Harry from the world, whilst simultaneously protecting the world from Harry. But never force his hand, never stop him from doing something; spoke of how he would never want to intervene unless absolutely necessary. Knew that if he did, he’d suffer the violent consequences. But most of all, he just loved his Brother too much to snap him from the comfort of his own world. Knew how much Louis meant to him. Even though it was a false sense of belief, a dangerous misplaced idea of reality that could and _has_ gotten him into danger he knows Harry needs free reign of his actions, to figure it out by himself. It’s the only way he can get better.

Harry must be getting Edward’s fierce protection over him completely wrong. He can hear Edward now, an obscure pain shooting through his temple.

_‘Harry often makes prejudgements, jumps to conclusions, his mind makes dangerous short cuts and he acts on them before assessing the reality. He can’t help it, it’s his illness. His illness…like, well it infects his mind like a cancer. Controls him, like a puppet master.’_

“I don’t think he would ever deny Harry access,” Louis looked away from her pen, but could still hear the scribbling as he looked back to Harry who’s liquid green eyes were staring right back, hollowed from the frown just above, “I think you’re misunderstanding him. He only wants what’s best for you.”

There was a moment that dragged out between them then, that would stay with Louis into the early hours. The pen stopped scrawling, the faint flicker of the electrical flames behind them ticked as loud as Louis’ heart when he stared back, consumed by the green shackling his lungs. 

Louis would’ve sworn he saw genuine hurt, a _betrayal_ that he’d seen only once before in those eyes before he turned away, swallowing what was definitely a bout of tears. 

“You sound just like him.”

Mrs Bundin snapped her jaw shut, the mood shifting around an axis that Louis couldn’t identify. He was left out of an understanding that was firmly held between the other two individuals in the room yet _again_. Always left out of the loop in some way. 

“Okay.” Her voice was indicating the matter was dropped, “Okay, well let’s leave that for now.” 

Louis pinned it for later. Wasn’t sure what just happened but definitely wanted to find out.

“Harry, you were telling me about the incident with the lady at the Post Office?”

There were two glasses of water on the wooden antique before them. Louis had missed this before, but was overly grateful for it now, retrieving a full glass after given the all clear from Mrs Bundin and gulping down half of it in one. 

Harry spoke and Louis listened. He expected to do much more talking than what he was doing, but when Harry started speaking so eloquently about such simple things, he found his voice to be quite ugly in comparison.

During this time of listening to Harry speak freely about the ordinary day to day life he leads, Louis appreciates how private this is. How he’s been allowed to have the ultimate window into Harry’s world. It was personal and Louis felt like an intrusion, until he remembered why he were here in the first place. Louis has not once, through Harry’s eyes, been an intrusion to anything as he was already very much the pinnacle of everything he’s done for five years; placed ignorantly upon a pedestal in his mind for Harry to over look from a distance. 

When he were asked by Harry to attend one of his meetings, he was dubious at first. But Harry insisted, now that he’d ‘ _seen him at his worst_ ’ and things - that being his devotion to Louis - were out in the open, he wanted him to understand. Wanted him to see that he wasn’t a monster and that he was trying, has always tried, to be the best he can. To get better.

The conversation took a turn to something that registered far more personally with Louis though. Mrs Bundin asking questions falling a lot closer to home about Harry’s relationship with his parents in the past week. 

“My Mother is getting ready for her trip to London, so she’s busy, as usual and Father, well you know what it’s like.”

He knows so little about his parents that he forgets he has them. Sometimes he forgets Harry and Edward are still as young as he is, always seeming so mature and capable beyond their years.

“Have you harmed yourself since the last time?” 

Louis’ heart dropped to his stomach. Ripped off course in the harshest fashion yet. He gripped at the velvet where his hands lay on the arm, looking nowhere but Harry.

“Um,” For the first time in the twenty minutes they’d been there, Harry seemed to be aware of what he were saying, aware of Louis, “no, I haven’t.”

_‘He often blames himself for a lot and after he’s done taking it out on everyone else, gives himself the hardest time of all.'_

Edward never did elaborate.

“Has there been a time where you have wanted to?”

A pause again, so pregnant in it’s silence.

“Yes.” 

Louis bit his lip, worrying the dry skin there that’s been building up from the nervous habit he’s adopted. Whether he should sound something here was playing with his heart, his inner monologue un clear as to what’s best. 

“I’m proud of you dear, I mean it.” Mrs Bundin had stopped writing as of a few second ago. She leant forward, elbows coming together to rest on her pad, “What is it that stopped you?”

Harry’s knee was jogging again. Hands splaying wide on either thigh and he looked to Louis for a beat, distressed, not quite covering it.

“I wasn’t alone.”

“I don’t understand.” She prompted, tilting her head. Louis not realising he was doing the exact same thing, curious now more than ever. 

Harry’s knee was still running a marathon. 

“When I wanted to do it, I wasn’t alone,” Harry kept his eyes fastened to a spot Louis couldn’t see, his head angled just enough away from him that only the sharp lines of his jaw, the edge of his lashes were visible as he stared without blinking, “thought I was going to be, I was trying to go to my safe space to do it, but, um…”

“Don’t rush Harry.”

Louis was leaning a little now, sat up right and pivoting a millimetre a second towards Harry afraid he’d miss something.

“Someone insisted they come with me and it was difficult to refuse, so I - I didn’t.” Harry’s sigh was steady, as smokey as his voice, “I couldn’t.”

“Who?” Louis couldn’t catch his tongue in time, eyes widening when he realised he’d said it out loud.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of what was offered. He didn’t need to look at Mrs Bundin to check he wasn’t just being stupid, her energy practically bouncing off him with her probing questions; for once they were in the same boat of uncertainty. 

Harry cleared his throat, looked away for a second, back to the spot he was looking at before. It was about to be concluded by both parties that he was violently unwilling to answer that question. Until he looked back at Louis, the room almost spinning in comparison to the focus he held for the boy.

“You.”

 

 

*

 

 

Harry was on a time limit, but had enough time left to go for a drink. He walks behind Louis towards the car and pulls him back a little, soft enough that Louis could’ve kept on walking if he pleased.

“Wait here for a moment won’t you, I can’t see there being a problem but let me just check.”

It sounds too casual, so _normal_ that Louis replays the sentence over in his head while he watches Harry have a hush conversation with the driver. They’re going for coffee. Coffee and a chat. Cup of tea and a natter. They’d done enough talking in the last hour that they should both probably be sick of it, but no. Louis doesn’t want to leave. And he doesn’t have to ask how Harry feels.

They opt for a quaint café off the beaten path that Harry swears by, says they do the best custard slices Britain has to offer. 

“Mr Kipling should watch his back, that’s all I’m saying.” Harry smiled, letting Louis through the door before him and nodding at the girl behind the counter who looked up at the bell ring and was already giggling when he came to the end of the counter with his arms out wide, “Tess!”

There was a hint of a lisp ringing through that Louis couldn’t help but find charming, smiling fondly as he hugged the girl tightly and lifted her off the ground making her squeal. 

“Harry, you have company!” Tess flicked her fringe out her eyes, the blush still heavy on her cheeks, “How much does he owe you?”

Louis’ laugh hollered out at her quick wit, couldn’t even dampen it when Harry looked at him shaking his head, tongue in his cheek. He found a weird ease in strolling up to the older male and slapping a hand to his tricep, momentarily forgetting how _lovely_ that part of him was.

“Aw Haz,” Harry stopped smiling immediately, enamoured from the nickname, “No, see I just felt sorry for him so I-“

“-okay enough,” Harry looked Louis in the eye when he pinched his side making Louis stumble back and grip the area, "I'm done with being the butt of the joke, two americanos please."

By the time their custard slices had arrived, Louis had already made him laugh twice, two victory’s down. First with a brief story of how he mispronounced the word ‘quiche’ up until the age of 14, then, with a sarcastic remark of Harry’s embrace of the girl ‘Tess’ earlier.

“I do have friends, you know.”

“Up until recently, I didn’t know you had a spectrum of emotion beyond neutral or nervous.” 

Harry arranged the two plates under their noses, shuffled his hips, accidentally bumping a bony knee against Louis under the rickety table. 

“Oh shit,” Harry retracted his lengthy limb, only making the table shudder more, “sorry.”

A walking anxiety, wrapped up in the body of a God. These little slips of Harry stripped down, caught off guard fuelled something in Louis and he smiled so wide.

“Thank you.”

“For what, Lou?” Harry poured the tiny pot of milk into his cup.

“For letting me be there today.”

“Like I said, I don’t want you to think anything I do is thoughtless,” Harry runs his long fingers over the rim of the glass absentmindedly, Louis finding the action to be quite hypnotic, “I haven’t brought out the best colours in me and I want you to maybe understand why. Not that I can blame everything on my stupid brain, but, nevertheless.”

“There’s nothing stupid about you.” Louis’ voice always grew the risk of getting lost when it got that soft, but Harry would always hear it and he stopped his fingers, looking up at him. He looked almost angelic with the light of the window coming from behind him, highlighting the wisp of his hair, a tender glow to his outline. 

“You’re just so big,” Louis was still gazing at Harry’s fingers, “you got this big ol’ personality that you don’t know how to use, a big heart that get’s overused and I’m guessing abused. Copious amounts of intelligence, a loud sense of humour that comes through every so often which I just, I love and…” He’d managed to remain in a weird daze, “just big. Too big. Your hands are big.”

Harry was getting lost with him, his ears nearly bleeding from the unreal compliments. 

Until that.

And he peered down at his hands, an amused quirk to his mouth when Louis spoke again, clearly back in present time.

“Are you religious?” 

He digressed completely. The timing of such a question terrific, as he obliviously ran a finger along the icing and popped it into his mouth suckling gently, looking at Harry with those wide eyes that made his insides twist with their innocence. 

Harry gripped the handle to his spoon a little harder.

“I try to be.”

Frowning, Louis swallowed and waved a slim finger towards the object which spurred the question, “You wear a cross though.”

“Yeah, no-,” He cleared the croak from his voice, hoping to clear the unholy thoughts with it, “I am very. Are we doing this? Are we asking questions?”

Louis had taken another small mouthful of the sweet and moaned softly, impressed with his companion’s taste. His companion however, was developing a steadfast appetite for something else, taking a larger than he anticipated gulp of coffee welcoming the distraction of the pain he got from the burn on his tongue. 

“Sure.” Louis nodded, popping another fingertip from his mouth.

“Are you dating my Brother?”

A dilemma presented itself. _What a refreshing change_ , Louis mused.

Does he lie? Continue his deception of his involvement with the particular twin like he has with everyone else? Or does he go for honesty? Does he pull on that string and risk revealing something about himself he wasn’t even sure he was ready for himself.

“No.”

Honesty it is then.

“So you’re not, and pardon the loose term, _into_ him?” 

“Well that’s an entirely different question.” Louis raised his eyebrows, enjoying the momentary look of horror on his face, before chuckling quietly and pushing the crumbs of pastry around on his plate, “He’s very attractive, he’s not uninteresting and yeah, I suppose he is quite charming.”

Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s distracted nodding, eyes down, cheek getting chewed to destruction as he picks at his pastry. He puts him out of his misery and denies it after careful thought. Says he was just there, _literally_ , and kind of always has been and isn’t going to lie about their “bond”, but it ends there. 

And even though in the back of his mind, Louis knows it was working up to be more than that - having Edward’s experienced hands running over his body like they had, his teeth gnawing at his unscathed skin doesn’t fall under platonic intentions - but somehow pursuing anything at present felt very, very wrong and so that’s why he’d put a stop to it. Harry didn't need to know such insignificant details.

Harry is still unsure, but satisfied with the response enough to not push it. 

The bell above the entrance dings in the distance and Louis spits out the tea he just sipped.

“What’s wrong?” Harry covers his mouth, speaking through a mouthful as Louis nearly swipes the plates off the table completely. 

“Liam.” Louis ducked down, bring the tiny menu to the side of his face as if that would help, “Fuck, _shit_.”

Harry raised his chin, peering across to the small lobby until he found him, dressed in his usual attire of a button down shirt and slim fit jeans. He grunted in acknowledgement, before joining Louis practically using the table as a pillow, “Why are we hiding?”

Harry’s whisper was doing things to Louis. He thought it impossible for a voice like Harry’s to get more provocative that it already was.

“Because Liam is Liam, he has this crazy idea that you’re obsessed with me and if…” Louis stopped. 

“Shit,” Harry was smiling though, “I wonder what gave me away?”

Louis couldn’t quite believe it. His heart was beating so fast, so sure he’d just offended Harry beyond repair, but instead he’d just replied with self mockery and Louis doesn’t know if his toes curling in his shoes is a good thing or not. But he giggles and then Harry does and the moments gone. 

“You know, he started talking to me about penises and banana boats at your party.”

Louis remembered Liam reiterating the regretful conversation to him the morning after and he winced, “Yeah, he was the one who I said you’d get on with super well.” 

“Should I be offended?”

“Oh _God_ yes.” 

Harry had a large hand resting on the tiny menu doing a feeble job of hiding their identities, a handsome smile on his face. Their faces were closer than they ever had been, sharing the same square few inches of oxygen and for the first time, Harry didn’t panic. 

“Louis?”

The duo popped up as one. 

“Li- oh my gosh, Liam!” Louis swizzled to the side, looking back at Harry as their knees knocked again, “What are you doing here?”

Liam said nothing, just gave a long pointed look at Harry that had Louis _sweating._

“Er…” He started, Louis didn’t let him finish. 

“Why haven’t you told me about this place before? You know how I love my sweet treats and _these_ ,” He sounded ridiculous, he knew he sounded ridiculous, twirling a finger over the cake, “these are exquisite.”

“I guess I like to keep some things to myself.” Liam seized the opportunity, squeezed the life out of it with a cocky lilt to his voice, “Some things I guess are too good to share with your best friend. Know what I mean, pal? Bro?”

Louis cleared his throat, fist balled at his mouth, not even risking a glance in Harry’s direction. When Lucy and Percy appeared behind him, he nearly flipped the table. 

“Louis! No way we were literally just talki- _Harry_ ,” She stopped with such obvious alarm in her voice that Louis cringed, actually closing his eyes for a long moment until she continued, “Hi, hey Harry this is um, well how are you? Are you okay?”

Harry, a born gentlemen was brought to standing with her arrival and offered his hand for her to take, bringing her into him once she did and kissing her cheek, “Hi Lucy, I’m good thank you. I trust you are, all I’ve heard is raving reviews from your performance from the other weekend.”

Louis peered at him, as he sat down. Is there one thing this boy doesn’t know? Are there any pants left un-charmed?

“Oh wow, I didn’t think you’d know,” Blushing, she shook her head, always had a weird semi-crush on him, seeing past the banal appearance he took up on school grounds, “thank you, yes the reception has been wonderful, so yeah, thank you so much.”

Louis eyes her suspiciously. It wasn't jealously. He definitely wasn’t _jealous_. That would be absurd. It was just she was there, so obviously flirting quite outrageously with Harry. _Harry_ who she hasn’t seen since that night he came to greet Louis with those tickets, _Harry_ who had gotten distinctly more attractive in an obvious sort of way since school ended and she was obviously thriving off it and was the button to her blouse undone before or...

“Er, what were you saying?” Louis’ smile was forced.

“Right yeah, we were just talking about a mini get together,” She started, didn’t pick up on Liam’s look to discontinue, “you know, because my Brother is back in town, he’s inviting everyone as per, Connor, Bryson and _Ben_ … as in Ben who has a soft spot for you Ben.”

Louis’ blood ran cold.

“Ben?”

“Fucking love that dude, s’built like a tank, owns the field.” Percy interjected, chewing on something that smelt like a vegetable pasty, steaming from a brown paper bag.

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d pick up on the hint.” She ignored Percy and looked to Louis. She had to be forgiven, she had no idea after all, “I may have told him you could get him to hook us up with some of that Cristal he brought last time?” 

She crossed her fingers, pouting stupidly.

“I need… apologies Lou, I need to go.” 

Louis was trying to juggle the thought of the having to be in the same room as Ben and his friends, whilst trying to simultaneously come up with a reasonable excuse to not go to fully register much else. Harry moved way too fast and Lucy didn’t know what on earth was happening, stepping down from the raised area of seating. 

“Forgive me. I’ll see you all.” Harry nodded, wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin, before balling it up and throwing it onto his plate, rising and leaving with such fervour the table tipped and his boots echoed through the wooden flooring.

“ _Hold on_ ,” Louis told them to wait there, not caring for Liam’s scrutinising glare, “Harry!”

“Still think he’s a _normal chap_?”

Liam was already fisting his back pocket, pulling out a couple of bank notes.

“Thanks pal.” Percy winked as two twenties and a tenner were slapped into his chest, “uh, you appear to be a few notes short, thought we bet two hundred?”

“I thought we were giving it ten years?”

“And yet it took what, ten days, for it to be proven I was in fact bang on the money?” Percy raised his eyebrows as he folded the notes neatly with one hand, “Pun fully intended.”

“Louis’ party was over a month ago Perc.”

“Ah well, you still lose.”

Louis feels weird, watching Harry walk away. His shoulders, as broad as they are pulling the material of his shirt as he twisted to check the road before crossing, throwing a two fingered wave to Louis on the double take when he saw he were still looking.

Louis giggled, fluttered his fingers in a small wave back.

Of all the boys he’d come across, who have liked him, even his ex Ashton in the end, wanted mainly one thing. Sex. Always seemed to be motivated by the physical and never caring enough to go past skin deep. With Harry, it’s like he doesn’t even see the body, see’s straight past it almost and instead goes for the thing that is most vital, wrapping his hands around his heart and bearing it upon his own shoulders to take full responsibility for any damage incurred. With Harry, he doesn’t have to worry about pretending to be a certain way, or whack his flirt up to a particular level to get by because Harry will allow him it anyway. Harry would walk through fire if he asked. Harry would unquestionably help him hide the body and take the beat if Louis ever committed a murder and there’s something duly comforting and terrifying about that. 

To know there’s a person out there that cares so deeply, that is so dextrously fluent in their affection is something. Harry’s amore may be unstable but it’s definitely there and it’s real and it’s unapologetic and it’s something only a lucky few get to experience in a lifetime. 

Louis feels that hole that opened up a week ago, deep down in the part of him he’s still trying to learn, slowly close again, lowering his hand as Harry turns away, dimples visible from even this length. 

“So.” Liam came to a sharp stop at his side, just as Harry slipped into the passenger side door, “H is for Hannah?”

 

 

*

 

_-Next Morning-_

 

The house was theirs, again. A rarity for their parents to be at home for longer than a full 24 hours and so throughout their adolescence, the twins had learnt to fend for themselves quite early on. Never really taking advantage of the fact they have a chef to wait on their dietary requirements as and when they please. Their sister Gemma of course, being five years older had to go through the same upbringing as them, but had the added responsibility of being a somewhat of a guardian to the two boys growing up. 

It was early morning, Harry had gotten in from his jog. Unlike his Brother he preferred the outside when it came to working out. The quiet serenity of 5am. The smell of it. Dewy and fresh where there’s nothing but the path, your mind and the morning mist. It was different to the inside, because once you’d run so far you have to double that and run back, no other way to it. You can’t just switch an off button and go upstairs for a shower once you’d had enough. 

“Why did you lie to me?”

Harry pulled off his beanie, tousling his slightly sticky hair from it’s mould.

Edward had his back to him, head down, the muscles at his shoulders exposed to him as he were topless. He didn’t reply immediately, unravelling his hand wraps first.

So Harry took another step, adding to the already pungent smell of sweat and unadulterated testosterone.

“You told me you were involved, why did you lie to me?”

It had been five days since they spoke or even been in the same room as the other. And when Edward looked at him just now, Harry only just held back a gasp, the bags under his eyes telling him Edward has slept little in this time.

“What shit have you cooked up now?”

Harry brushed off his comment, knew he was stressed. Had every reason to be.

“Edward, I don’t want to fight.” 

But that was just the thing. Edward _did_. Edward had no idea about his Brother’s and Louis’ rendezvous and so in his eyes he was still leading on the score board when it came to Louis affection, but his mood had plummeted after he received a text off of the bite size individual five days ago, telling him they need some breathing time.

Edward didn’t need any such thing. Space was the last thing he required. He wanted the onslaught of his venture to continue. Wanted to desecrate him so badly that he would forget he even had a Brother.

“Little late for the white flag don’t you think?” Edward huffed, discarding his hand wraps on the bench next to a set of weights.

He snatched his t-shirt on the way past and sauntered his way to the door, keeping his mouth clamped shut and his eyes fixed forward, praying his stupid sibling would leave him al-

“-I don’t know why you’d want to make it out to be more than what it was though,” Harry was behind him and Edward all but growled at his insistent insolence, “why would you want to hurt me like that?”

“Wake the fuck _up_!” Edward shouted at him without losing his stride, coming through the back lounge with just as much speed if not more, pummelling his way through the doorway into the main corridor, “Louis will never want you, _has_ never wanted you and the sooner you realise that the easier life will become.”

Harry shook his head, “I’m not saying he does, I’m talking about you.”

Edward gripped the banister and swung his body onto the stairs, jogging up them hoping he’d lose the annoying tail by continuing to ignore his whining. But then something occurred to him and it made his legs slow, way _way_ down, reaching the top of the stairs and turning around to peer down at his mirror image a few steps lower.

“You’ve been speaking to him, haven’t you?”

Harry was the worst at lying to Edward. Perhaps it was something about them sharing the same genetics, the famous phenomenon of telepathy between twins. Either way it has always been the most difficult thing for him to achieve.

“Yes, b-,”

“-You’re hell bent on self destruct.”

“It’s only text messages.” 

Of course it was. Harry hasn’t left the house apart from his appointment yesterday and his morning runs.

“Doesn’t matter,” Edward disregarded his attempt at reasoning, “sooner or later, you need to cut ties. Or he will do it for you and it will _hurt_.”

So that means Louis has denied them. And this, above all else angered him. He never thought he would be so galled by the work of Louis Tomlinson. An idea springs to mind as he turns again, steaming towards his room with Harry remaining his shadow.

“I can’t, you know I can’t.” Harry sounded a little choked, finally Edward’s words peeling back the thin layer of confidence, “I love him.”

Edward tore open the double doors to his closet and disappeared inside for a second, ignoring that last sentence. On one hand, he knows why Louis would’ve said this; said it to keep Harry sane, keep him happy. But then there’s that part of Edward that doesn’t care, that wants to tear down his Brother and his hopes at every chance he gets.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” 

Edward reappeared with a tense jaw, dark eyes hard on Harry. 

“Take from this what you will.”

Granting him not a second to respond, he pushed the garment into Harry’s chest making him tumble back with the cruel force. Harry takes a hold of the jumper with both hands, running his thumb over the finely knit material. He looks up expecting to see his Brother but he’d already vacated to the ensuite. Swallowing hard, he raises the small item to his face, closing his eyes at the sweet smell that he would recognise first and foremost amongst any other. It was faded, which could only mean it must’ve been here for some time now. 

Harry stays there for a while, just looking at it. Alone again, with nothing but his loud thoughts for company. Alone and bitterly confused.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sometimes feel I need inspiration for certain scenes, whether it be for an outfit or an event or a particular physical feature. Throughout this story and especially this chapter, I felt a little doubtful that 2013 Harry had the 'physical attributes' I was prescribing him with. Then I remember what he _actually_ looked like in 2013 and that [these](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/08/11/article-2389474-1B3F692D000005DC-945_634x889.jpg) awful [pictures](http://static.idolator.com/uploads/2013/08/09/hs9-compressed.jpg) exist. Lord have mercy. And I guess whilst we're on visuals, [this](http://66.media.tumblr.com/2098f11f3ba2aadee67c1c02766a3ec6/tumblr_mtabddaUV71s2bi2ko1_500.jpg) was Harry's attire for this one, one of my favourites. Much to my dismay there are no pictures of Louis in what I've put him in. Weep with me.

It was after the second call Louis put it on vibrate. Third it went onto silent. And by the fifth call and fourth text telling him to _‘Stop ignoring me Princess, pick up.’_ the phone was switched off completely.

Even through the loud music that erupted and filled every corner of the room he didn’t stop thinking about it. Regardless of how his physical body was entirely submersed in the Latin tones that got his limbs pushing and pulling to an onerous routine he’d been trying to perfect for Lucy for two months now, his mind was always dragging his gaze back to the screen lighting up in the far corner. It didn’t matter that he’d taken himself out the house for the first time in 48 hours, clearing his mind away from anything that could and _would_ remind him of something twin or Ben related, the voice in his head wasn’t giving way; the very blood running through his veins felt claimed and wasn’t his own anymore. He knew this. But wasn’t going to stop pretending he didn’t. 

Catching his footing wrong, he trips. And in that point of a second, that moment where he were falling to the floor, the lurch in his stomach as he aimed his hands forward he found himself right back in Edward’s bed. 

He stayed there for a few shaky breaths. Chest expanding with laboured oxygen he let the memory of warm hands, experienced gait and swift embrace ghosting down his flanks animate his thoughts. 

“ _Shit_.” He muttered out on a huff, letting his body fall slack.

If a rush of adrenaline, a dull strike of panic pulled him back to his intimacy with Edward he was afraid where his mind will take him when any real danger presents itself. Or maybe it was the specificity of what happened shortly after. Maybe it was the feeling of dread that pooled his senses that triggered his mind to take him down that haunting route. It didn’t matter anyway, because today, was not the day. Today, was a twin free day. He had to focus on this routine and his body and _Christ_ his body. It hurt. The cold vinyl floor was more than a long overdue, welcome touch to his burned out physique and he opted to stretch out that ache in his inner thigh instead of immediately picking up the routine where he’d left off. Or rather, broken off.

Torso half curved, wincing with his right leg stretched out behind him, left curled up in front he was just about to let out a small hiss from the pain he was all too familiar from his troublesome appendages when he stopped before it peaked as there was a muffled clatter that he wasn’t causing. 

Before there was a second to move a loud clang rattled through the air and a resounding echo shortly after directly behind him. Louis snapped his head up. The door. It’d swung open, fast and hard and because Louis’ brain had favoured placing absurdities before logic recently, the first thing he thought was how he was absolutely sure he’d locked it. 

His vision whirred with the image presented in the mirror. A very angry, very tall and very _fast_ Harry filing up to his position with a reverberating door donning a bust handle in the background.

“You _lied_.” Both words rang clear over the music and Louis flinched.

For some reason, his body refused to move and was fixed to the spot. Staring at those petrifying eyes through the reflection. 

“You said nothing serious was going on with you and him.” 

Louis was already breathing hard and fast thanks to the dancing, he really didn’t need anymore distress to add to it. He swung his limbs around and straightened up, turning round to face Harry for real as he came to a stop just beyond arms length away, fists clenched. 

Louis wasn’t going to worry too soon, walking over to the sound system - almost sideways to make sure he had eyes on Harry - and clicked off the blearing music, “You seem stressed.”

Their ears rung with the sobering silence.

“I implore you to drop any attitude as of now Louis.”

Louis’ tight smile faded then.

This is something that Harry does. This was just something that happens and it’ll be fine once he just gets it out there what’s bothering him. This is nothing but a paranoid episode that has him overthinking. Something minor had triggered a suspicion and here he is now, confronting him on it. Edward has told him this. Many times. So, he swipes his fringe to the side and quirked an eyebrow at the comment.

“You gave something to him.”

Louis frowned as he bent at an odd angle to collect the towel from the bench, again not wanting to turn his back on the beast.

“I’m going to presume by him you mean Edward,” Apparently his sarcasm wasn’t a choice. Even with Harry’s warning he appeared to have little control of his tongue and he was sure his face gave that away after he realised he’d engaged his mouth before consulting his brain. 

And Harry really wasn’t in the mood for his quick jest. Not this time. 

“The fucking _jumper_ Louis,” He stepped forward and Louis took one back, finger pointing to emphasise each word, “he has your jumper.”

Now he panicked. Now that familiar gut twisting unpleasantry unfolded in his stomach as it dawned on him exactly what he meant and exactly how this looked; mind racing a million miles an hour as he suddenly saw this through Harry’s eyes. He’d forgotten all about that damn jumper and the silliness that led to it being in his possession and how innocent it was and how it really doesn’t look like that at _all_.

“That’s-,” _That’s something you weren’t supposed to find out,_ “oh right, well it’s a funny story actually you won’t believe-,”

“-try me.”

And he wasn’t kidding. He wasn’t laying down and rolling over to Louis like he would usually.

“I’m sorry?” Louis replied, sort of but not really offended. Too unsure to be sure anything at this point.

“Please, treat me as your equal,” Harry was warning him, gave him this much before taking another long step with eyes unwavering and set, “someone who has half a brain.”

No this Harry was definitely different. He was vexed and impatient and Louis wondered how many times his Brother had seen this exact build up before a pair of hands tried to cut off the air to his lungs. He definitely needed to cut the steady sarcasm that seems to so willing to birth itself at present.

“It’s a jumper Harry, not a promise ring.”

Or not.

“No don’t,” He waved his hand through the air, turning away from Louis instantly, “don’t _do_ that.”

Harry shook his head and pulled on his hair again, agitated. Stressed, so stressed and Louis is already marking every available exit. 

“Do what?” Tread carefully. 

“Patronise me.” Harry spat back and looked up just in time to catch Louis reaching for his phone.

The smaller boy froze when Harry’s body turned painfully slowly to face him fully again, something bleeding into the air that was much more demanding than before as he stared not at Louis but where his hand was tucked away under his bag. 

It was common knowledge by now that Harry can go to zero to sixty with little prompting - has witnessed it for himself and categorically does not want to risk being on the receiving end of that short but mighty wrath. He stood back up, maybe a little straighter than before and gulped so hard it hurt.

Harry’s shoulders dropped a little then, letting go of a breath. A part of him visibly returning to centre.

“I-I’m not patronising you, I-,” He was smaller than Edward, weaker too and Harry would break his body with little effort, “I think you’re-,”

“-no you are. It’s not me this time it’s _not_. Everybody always does that. Talks to me like I’m being stupid, like I’m proposing something laughable or, or absurd,” He could hardly take in enough breath to speak, hands flailing through the air as he spoke, “I know what I saw when I walked in on you both that night and I know what this means too, giving your clothes to someone that you barely know, to someone like Edward, it means-,”

“- _nothing_.” A brave interception from Louis, not only several inches shorter, but a few pounds of muscle lighter and many, _many_ corners of a brain left idle. He was no fit opposition for Harry. “It means absolutely nothing.”

Louis held up his hands in a futile surrender, hoping he was sounding genuine enough. He side eyed the broken door for any signs of life, hoping a girl from the group that were practising on the next floor would miraculously pass and see his discomfort or something.

But Harry wasn’t going to let it slide this easily. 

“I never thought you would lie like that.” Harry’s face was in his hands for a short moment, muffling his croaked words before he turned away.

Louis’ stomach jumped with opportunity and glanced back at his bag.

“I have not…” His arm stretched out behind him again, slowly, “lied to you about anything. You’re getting yourself worked up over nothing.” 

Louis felt compelled to do many things at once. His brain had taken the afternoon off so his body was really just out there to figure shit out by itself. Even as he managed to secure his phone behind his back, knuckles turning white with the sweaty grip as he watched Harry run his hands through his hair and push the heel of his hands into his eyes he found himself to be stifling an urge to run and wrap his arms around the boy. Pacify the animal within. Imagined nuzzling into the warmth that lies in the region of his chest, heart already twittering with the forethought of how _lovely_ Harry would probably be about it if he allowed him. 

“You said you forgave me.” Harry looked like he was considering walking straight back out the room, most of him facing away from Louis as he sniffled.

“I _have_ forgiven you Harry, for everything.”

“Then why are you doing this?” He turned with his arms spread out wide and an elevated croak in his voice, eyes glossy. 

But when they dropped to Louis’ hands frantically punching away on his phone they turned less sombre. His pupils blew, onyx black and focused as the internal battle he’d been having with himself, oscillating between the rational and foolish all day, came to a null.

Louis was screaming inside. Think he may have even let out a high sound at some point from the eye contact he couldn’t break as he locked his phone.

“What have you done?”

“I haven’t done-,” His response was cut short from a sunken growl that erupted from the other boy, destroying the space between them with so much speed Louis stumbled backwards immediately. He would’ve fell and cracked his coccyx from poor footing if it weren’t for the cold brick wall that he slapped into instead. His limbs weren’t elegant or coordinated through any of it and he slowly slumped down onto the bench next to his belongings.

Harry’s strapping legs were an inch or two away from the wood, looming over Louis from his position. 

“Get up.”

Louis still held the phone in his hand when it lit up with a caller ID. His lip trembled and he closed his eyes only just holding back a pathetic whimper. He didn’t dare look to see who it was. Already knew who it was.

“ _Get up_!” Harry’s colossal voice shattered his resistance, forcing him to a wobbly stand at once. 

When he opened his eyes again, their faces were intolerably close. Any breath one took, the other did too. 

“Honesty is all I ask of you,” Up close his timbre was penetrating, “yet it seems all you want to do is deceive.” 

Harry held a hand out, waist level. It shook from the insanity breaching his nerves. 

Louis was pinned to the spot with his dominion, whatever part of himself that rigged the fast tongue of his was vacant now as he peered down at the large palm facing upwards, trying to still his quivering lip. He was certain his pulse could be heard, the blood in his ears thumping so severely his cranium would surely give.

“Give me,” Louis closed his eyes again, that warm breath on his face making the fine baby hair rise despite the temperature, “your phone.”

There was no argument. Louis’ brain had returned from it’s hiatus. He dropped his phone into the outstretched hand, retracting his wrist the instant the device landed on flesh and looked up at him like a dog would it’s owner after he’d done as he were told. 

But there was no reward for obedience this far in. For the first time in the longest minute of Louis’ life, Harry tore his eyes away from him and engaged with the phone, squinting without the aid of his glasses as he got to work on the screen, wristwatch glinting in the light.

Harry’s ragged breathing through his nose was the only thing to be heard. Even the voice in Louis’ head had silenced. Chewing his bottom lip he tried to remain as still as possible, willing his shallow breaths to come out quiet as he waited. 

The following few seconds brought to light just how naked he was. Literally. He wore nothing but a thin oatmeal t-shirt that left little to the imagination with it’s fit, just like Harry’s jeans, and his bottom half was covered by a measly pair of black brushed cotton shorts, bobbling from the amount of wear. And of course, his underwear. Harry was fully clothed, he allowed himself a once over now he were free from the restraint of his gaze. White t-shirt and black jeans. His black boots added an inch he really, _really_ didn’t need.

Louis’ sore heart shrunk back when Harry had raised the phone to his ear, a frown that was a Style’s trademark by now pulled at his brow. He looked at nothing for a moment until Louis heard the dial tone and Harry’s cast fell upon him again. Louis mirrored the frown, his entirely softer, when the phone was put to his own ear then and Harry spoke with an eery calm.

“You’re going to tell him it was a false alarm, your car broke down, you panicked, but you’re okay now.” 

Louis’ mouth was open and dry, eyes wide and blurry from tears he fought not to shed. The protest must’ve been clear on his face as Harry only pushed the device a little further into his cheek.

Harry leant in, voice lowered to add, “Clear your throat.” 

It was harrowing how fast Louis licked his lips and did just that. Swallowing down the tell tale signs of distress and hoarseness in his throat. Any response was cut off by the line being picked up after two more rings.

“H-hi,” Louis stared into those ghastly eyes as he addresses his twin, the stutter earning him a tense jaw, “Yes I’m fine I-,”

Harry could hear the haste on the other side, his scratched tones coming through the receiver. If Louis didn’t keep up his act he knew his Brother wouldn’t give up until he found him. Now it’s been unearthed that he has Louis within his grasp, Harry knows how Edward will not rest if he even suspects there is something wrong. 

“…No honestly I’m okay Edward. This is going to sound silly but I only sent you that because I was desperate, my car broke down and I was miles out of town an-… yeah… no I swe-,”

Not because he cares, but because of the control. If Edward had gotten home already he’d have long since discovered Harry was missing. So teaming that with the knowledge Harry wasn’t allowed outside the grounds of the Styles residence unassisted yet, putting two and two together wouldn’t be difficult.

“… well no one else was answering so I- I sucked up my pride and called you.” 

Louis smacked his lips together, tongue like sandpaper as he watched Harry mouth _‘wrap it up’._

“- yeah I know it sounded more urgent but I thought I was going to be stranded… thank you but it’s fine I’m on my way now thanks to- thanks to Percy… just g-getting coffee… yeah,” Louis planted his clammy palms against the cold brick wall, back arching at a painful angle as it occurred to him he’d been slowly bending away from Harry the entire time, “- I know but can we talk later? I have a Doctor’s appointment and I don’t want to be late,” Harry hung his head back then, expression unreadable but clearly something was wrong, “-yeah, okay I will… I will… alright, bye.”

Pulling his head back there was a fire in his eyes as he locked the phone and wrapped too long fingers around the device, dwarfing it as he pointed a finger close to Louis’ face, “Big mistake telling him where you are going to be.”

Harry shook his head, took a couple of steps back. Nothing to ease the distance but enough so Louis could peel himself back into a comfortable standing position. He could barely feel his fingers as he fixed his damp fringe across his forehead, “I only said I was getting c-,”

“-you told him you were going to the Doctor Louis. Do not underestimate my Brother’s tact.”

That registered with Louis more than it should have. More than he would’ve liked. And brought every hair in plain sight on his body to a stand. 

Thus far, it’d always been, Edward. It was Edward who was there at Harry’s arrest, waiting in the corridor like he knew Louis would be lingering. It was Edward who had turned up at this exact studio during his rehearsal last time and didn’t elaborate on how he knew his location. It was _Edward_ , who had turned up at the theatre that evening, failing any prior warning. He’d been so busy cautioning Louis about Harry’s inclination towards possessive tendencies, his own tight grip he seems to have on Louis’ whereabouts had been somewhat overlooked. 

Movement brought him back to the present. Harry was bent forward a little, eye level with him for a second whilst he placed his phone back on the bench, “You don’t need him Lou.”

 _Lou_.

Harry was livid. So very clearly hanging by a thread, yet he’d called him _that_. Much like Edward’s unfortunate pet names he knew that if terms of endearment managed to slip past their lips then there was light on the horizon. 

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

A very, very dim light.

Louis meant to shake his head. He really did but fear had him uptight and locked. The lack of response had Harry fazed and push further, a frown that never really left his face back in full force, “You do don’t you?”

_‘He’d rather kill himself than hurt you…’_

“No.” Too contrived. It was feigned and so obviously forced.

_‘But there will dawn a day when he will lose that last shred of power to his mind…’_

“You’re lying to me again.”

_‘And when that day dawns, when he lays an ill-fated finger upon your body, it will be the day I lose my Brother.’_

He was an actor for heavens’ sake. More conviction. All he needed was to pull off a genuine act to get past this.

“I don’t think you will ever hurt me,” Louis’ mind fizzed as he juggled with the several hundred ways of ending that sentence, “intentionally.”

The pain in Harry’s eyes, the way that seemed to hit him bounced straight back into Louis’ chest as he realised with a heart palpitating measure he had been doing exactly the opposite to Harry all along. Even from the before the beginning of it, at school, he’d never been nice to him, always dismissed him and been obvious with his dislike. Then the orchestra; he’d left him alone with no regard for anyone but his _own_ feelings in mind. Then proceeded to get physical with his Brother even though he knew if Harry ever found out it would destroy him. And now, after all he’s learnt, all he’s come to know about this boy in a moment of distress he’d turned to the one person, the _same_ person that has gotten him so hurt in the first place and Louis had been so concerned all this time about himself ending up with a scar. 

He really can’t keep up with his heart’s seesawing loyalties. 

This had to stop.

“Edward and I,” Louis took a deep breath, a bold breath as the sole mention of his name had Harry’s features hardening, “have nothing.” 

“But you-,”

Louis shushed him. Didn’t know how he could have any power left over the mountainous individual before him when his voice shook like it did. He couldn’t really feel his legs. But somehow he was closer to Harry again and focused on nothing but. Completely missing the two girls that had passed the door that he was angling for earlier.

“I reached for Edward in a blind moment of panic. You scared me Harry and you want me to be honest? You scare the shit out of me most of the time and he’s the first person I think of who can even begin to rival you.” Louis was leaving himself wide open for attack, Harry could probe from all corners if he wanted. But he owed him this, “I didn’t turn to him out of fondness, I turned to him just now because of practicality.”

Harry studies him and Louis could swear he can _feel_ his eyes on him. Picking away at the short fallings of his rickety voice, his raised pulse. But after a prolonged breath there was no retaliation from the lengthy stack of muscle. Just a deserted sniff and a change of footing as he propped two hands on his hips.

“Okay,” The eyes though. They were still hard and studious. “Okay.”

Tiny little horns of victory played from a stupid part of Louis’ mind. 

“Just tell me one thing.” Harry’s full lips were being pulled with his fingers and Louis readied himself for a blow he feared he couldn’t handle, “Have you been intimate with him?”

“Intimacy can mean many th-,”

“-you know what I mean.”

“Well, actually, no I don’t. Like I s-,”

“-has my Brother _fucked_ you?”

It shouldn’t have been so erotic to hear that sentence come out on Harry’s voice. But it was. And it was just as surprising as it was inappropriate, Louis practically swallowing his tongue and biting the insides of his cheeks to draw his mind away from anything obscene.

“ _No_ , no he-,” Louis choked a little, biting the end off his sentence, “he hasn’t, no.”

Harry - thankfully - accepted this.

“Okay. Then whatever other intimacies you’ve shared are irrelevant to me.” Something had slotted firmly into Harry’s persona and it was serving up to be a confusing mix of stone cold, heart hammering fear and raw, unadulterated arousal. “But you must understand my grievance Lou, he’s managed to coax you into whatever it was that you two shortly shared and I…”

His lips rolled, dimples coming out for a breath as he stopped short. Louis raised both eyebrows, calming his breathing as he surveyed Harry’s gradually softening features. Insecurity and self doubt riddling them once more.

“Doesn’t matter.” Harry shook his head, turned on his heels muttering something to himself but before the second hand ticked he was facing him again, “Actually yes it does.” 

Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to say it out loud. There wasn’t much that _hadn’t_ been hung out for all to witness, but something about admitting he is jealous and bitter of his Brother’s unfair advantage is a little too wearing on his ego. He was a mere human after all. The testosterone was fuelling him just as much as honest emotion and when forced to mix, the two juxtaposed quite terrifically. 

“You know what?” Harry showed no indication of replying so Louis continued promptly, pushing himself forward a little, “That’s a conversation that is suited for a much later, possibly drunker date.”

Louis needed to get moving, feeling like he’d spent a century on this one spot. He kicked the towel towards the bench, tacking on, “But you’re overestimating what we had.”

He’d shared this room with one too many twins with too many emotions for it to ever be a place of innocent retreat again.

“No, that’s- that’s not good enough.” Harry shook his head, reaching his arm out to stop Louis on his venture past him but thought twice about it before he made contact. “What is it about him?”

Louis sees the advance in the corner of his eye but doesn’t stop, looks at him for a moment before continuing to walk towards the door to examine the damage there. He’ll have to make up some fine excuse to Miss Suldon, one of his dance tutors, to cover their backs. He doesn’t purposely choose to not reply, just is momentarily busy with inspecting the splintered wood when Harry’s voice - too close for him to be at the other side of the room where he’d left him - brought him back.

“There must’ve been something Louis, you were in his lap.” 

“That’s really stuck with you hasn’t it?” Louis wiggled the metal handle hanging loosely from where it should be attached, carrying on distractedly, “Harry you’re fifty percent machine I swear…”

The door was slammed shut and a solid arm crossed through Louis’ line of vision, the echo of affliction snapping around the room, “Well you’ve never been in my lap.” 

Louis gulped, looking at the tensed muscle inches away from his face. 

“You are _very_ different from your Brother.” He travelled up and over the bank of his shoulder and to those fucking eyes, “Identical genetics aside.”

“ _Good_ different.” It wasn’t a question, just waiting for Louis to confirm.

Neither moved. 

“I don’t know, just not him. He’s a lot more open, upfront. He wants something then he doesn’t let much get in his way.” There was a word he were looking for but it wasn’t coming to him, rolling his hands around each other as he thought, “He’s firmer?”

The hand Harry didn’t have braced on the door clenched and Louis’ breath hitched at the sound of knuckles cracking.

 _Firmer_. 

He’d not been allowed to showcase his assertiveness. He’s not allowed to express his most elemental desires so openly like his Brother. If it weren’t for his brain glitch every so often Louis would’ve known long before now, just how firm Harry could be.

Louis’ throat constricted under that gaze, surprised he hadn’t caught fire from it. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” If it was louder it would’ve been a bark to accompany the bite.

“Look I knew so little about you at school, didn’t even bother about you,” Louis still held onto the loose handle, clanging it as he spoke animatedly, “I’ve learnt more about you in six weeks than what I have in six years! I mean you even looked a lot different back then, dressed differently… if I’d have spoken to you sooner maybe, I don’t know, maybe things would be different.”

“So what,” Harry leant into his arm, tilting his head like a confused puppy, “are you saying exactly?”

“I’m _saying_ ,” Louis started off well but now, he had no idea, “I’m saying I’m confused. And I… actually while we’re on the subject, why _did_ you dress like that? Where was all this,” He motioned to the elongated body clothed to perfection before him, “before?”

Looking like he were weighing a few things up before he answered, Harry just stared at Louis’ endearing curiosity, his nose scrunching a little when he made point of looking at Harry’s thick set thighs again. He cleared his throat, “To blend in.”

Not the answer he was expecting. Any response was squashed when that rasp continued. 

“You are the cause for most of the frustration in my life Louis.” Harry hung his head, a defeated sigh pushed through full lips.

“Then maybe you should do something about it. You’re too humble. No wonder people walk all over you.” He could’ve felt bad about it, he probably should have felt bad about it but he’d made a private promise of honesty since five minutes ago and it felt kind of good to finally say it.

Fuck it. Harry thought. _Fuck it all_.

“And you’re stuck up.”

Louis’ mouth popped wide open, “Wh- _I beg your pardon?_ ”

“Quite selfish too.”

The delivery of two blows in under four seconds was too much. And from _him_.

Harry buzzed a little from spitting out such profanities, but he played this right then he gets the reaction he needed. Even if it was difficult to not smile from Louis’ adorable little face.

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Louis tongue twisted around it’s sarcastic tendencies once more. “I mean, don’t hold back Styles.” 

Harry pushed some air out of his nostrils, shuffling forward a little, his t-shirt pulling tight across his chest as he straightened up to look _down_ on the tiny ball of offence gawking in front of him, “In fact you’re a bit of a brat on the whole.”

Louis popped his hip, arms crossing. “Is there a reason why I’m under attack?”

“No, just feels good to let off some steam.”

“So, you have an existential crisis at the very _thought_ of touching me, but dragging me verbally is no issue.” Louis was shocked. Be damned if he showed it though, pride still in tact even though the same boy had him quaking with fear mere mortal minutes ago. “You know I’m going to have to ask you to settle down with the mood swings Haz because I’m losing track of how you really feel about me.”

“You can still think the world of someone and at the same time want to…,” Harry motioned throttling something around the neck gently and Louis scoffed.

Message received loud and clear.

Harry’s chest was taking on that harsh rise and fall, but Louis was offended so threw all the caution that he’d usually tap into, to the wind and leant in with no careful thought, “Well I guess while you’re off just fantasising about it, Edward can enjoy going ahead and actually _doing_ it.”

That, sliced the cap off any will power holding him back.

Harry takes Louis’ waist in one hand, seizing Louis’ free hand with the other and _slammed_ their bodies into one another. And it was electric. Harry almost wanting to immediately let go when he realised this is the first real physical contact they’ve ever had. So much weighted on this. Louis’ tiny body, so smooth and tight and forbidden was in his cinch and there was no one to tell him he couldn’t.

“ _Harry_ ,” He’d gone too far. “Harry I’m sorry okay I-,” 

" _Hush_." 

Panic bled through his pores, accompanying the thin layer of sweat sure to get only wetter in the following seconds. Panic was the only thing it could be. Anything else would be-

“Weren’t you dancing?” Harry’s breath was warm, eyes focused, hold _strong_. “Latin music was it not?”

Louis thinks about the other time he’d felt a body so solid, so warm and at one with his own. Maybe it should feel wrong to have his Brother in the same position he’d christened previously, but Louis didn’t have room to think about moral placement. Not when Harry was looking like he did. 

“Are you craz-,”

Harry smiles so wide and Louis screams internally. That’s the second time.

“Maybe it’s time for you to start learning more about me.”

Harry kicks his body into gear and takes the lead, their hips aligned for an ‘ocho’ and then immediately backwards. 

Each step was performed with the lack of finesse that Louis possessed but the skill was cemented. He guided Louis, tacked his eyes to his own as their lower bodies writhed against the other, Louis hips pivoting to sultry extents that should be marked too erotic for a ballroom routine.

Letting himself venture into this part of him, to touch the body he’s only dreamed about, could go one of two ways. Harry stamped down the voice in his head. 

But his struggle was masked with the dominance he’s got Louis drowning in. Louis doesn’t look away and Harry wouldn’t let him even if he tried. Not now. They moved with ease, Harry’s strength aligning perfectly with Louis’ practised agility as they transitioned into ‘carusel’, Louis lithe body turning on a point as Harry rotated around him as his centre, always has been his centre. 

Their bodies pushed and pulled, never away from the other for longer than half a beat. It was quick and it was precise and Louis had no time to process any of it. Fear and desire were at battle and desire was taking up an ardent lead.

“The tango,” Harry leans forward, letting Louis’ weight fall off his singular arm before pulling and snapping them back into place, Louis’ back painted to his front, “sex through dance.”

Now only did he slow. Allowed Louis a moment to catch his breath, chasing his own for a second. 

Never before had he felt so unwrapped while so much clothing remained.

Louis goes for a protest, his name maybe, seize his attention in some sort of way to stop but when his tongue curls and his mouth opens the only sound that escapes is a narrowed whine, breathy but high pitched from the lips pressing on the juncture of his neck. He falls slack into him by a fraction, baring his throat for him to take as they swayed gently. Mercy was needed from his partner. He had Louis right where he wanted him; off guard but meticulously engaged. 

“It’s my favourite of all the dances.” Harry purred, plump lips moving against the damp skin of his neck.

Two hands travelled down his sides then, the power in them so evident making Louis weak.

“Harry,” What was he going to say? What did he _want_ to say? “Harry.”

Voluntarily or involuntarily it seemed the two merged on a constant now. But if there was anything dance forced him do it was to listen to his body; the silent demands that screamed louder than words ever could and when those hands came to a blunt stop at the narrowest point of his waist he sucked in a breath at the pressure.

He hiccuped a tiny moan when Harry swung him round, missing the wall of warmth only for it to be replaced immediately from his front, “ _God_ Harry.”

Hands so gentle ran down the front of Harry’s shirt, relearning the curves of muscle he’d discovered not long ago. He rest his head on his shoulder, breathing in the scent laid here - musky and fresh, no cologne, just Harry and moaned once more, biting his lower lip to stifle it as he just couldn’t _stop_. 

“Lou.” Harry had imagined this moment, planned it and more than anything _prayed_ for it for so long. He’d played the surrender of Louis on loop many times before but never did he imagine it to be like this.

Dainty fingers wrote on his skin, now working their way under Harry’s clothing. Each defined abdominal passing under his fluid touch, the mouth watering contrast of delicate meeting robust. 

“You’re so…” Harry’s hands remained on his hips, a tight anchor to keep the looser parts of him intact. 

When soft fingers found one of his nipples he was certain his hold would bruise from the involuntary squeeze, grunting something animalistic as he walked Louis the few swift steps back into the door. Slamming him against the wood their breath was short, panting and desperate. Louis’ hands were still braced on the solid purchase of muscle provided by Harry’s stomach when they were suddenly captured and pinned above his head, body stretched out and pinned by both his wrists in one of Harry’s hands.

“I don’t know if I can keep from you for much longer Lou.” Harry surveyed the beauty before him, wanted to shower him with praise of how superior he really was but feared he’d never find words good enough, “I’m… I’m not supposed to…”

“S-supposed to what?” Louis’ didn’t recognise his own voice. He was drunk off this new side to Harry. Knowing it’s probably been there all along. 

“I want to…” Whether Harry was talking to himself or responding it mattered not. The craving was still there, the restraint in his tense jaw, the urgency held in those dark eyes peeling off Louis clothes was unmistakable. “ _Fuck_ I want to.” 

Louis mewled at the tightening around his wrists, Harry pressing a long thigh between his own, teasing Louis with a friction that was never going to be enough. 

Harry was all around him, powerful and dogmatic. Pink lips wet and open just a head duck away from meeting his own, “I can’t say it.”

Louis stared at those ridiculous lips as his own fought to push out a reply, “Then show me?”

Harry growled. A dangerous game to spike any further motivation as he needed none. 

“ _Louis_ …” His voice was a caution, meant for his complete submission but Louis wasn’t giving in yet.

“Come on Harry.” Louis had fought this long to not address the overwhelming mass at Harry’s groin, working his hips forward once to earn him another low sound, “Show me.”

Something snaps. Harry physically felt something lodge into place at the bottom of his skull, the tip of his spine and with expert motion he spun Louis round until he had the long line of his back, the full rise of his most tasteful curve offered to him.

“Baby you have no idea,” Louis was pliant before, but _fluid_ now, “how pretty you are.”

He takes a deep breath to steady himself, Louis making the sweetest little sounds while he pressed his tummy forward to accentuate the dip in his spine further. 

The sight of him. The vulnerability of him. The shift in power from one rotation was dizzying. 

The feeling of a heavy hand flat between Louis’ shoulder blades, expanding to it’s full size as it travels down his back was intoxicating and took the blood in his body along with it. There was a moment of hesitance, feels like this entire act had been a tug of war between carefulness and violence, right before the band of his shorts was pulled down in a fluent swipe.

Louis couldn’t hold back the gasp when he felt Harry press forward a little more then, snapping his head to the side to catch the look of a man _torn_ when Louis’ full behind pushed upwards against that bulging arousal, painful through such rigid clothing. He were testing it. Toying with both of them with the teasing sensation of cock against taint. 

“Har- _oh_ ,” His name broke off onto a sound far more erotic when Harry ran his thumb over his entrance, only a thin layer of cotton apart, so unfamiliar with the hands of someone else touching him where he’s most sensitive. 

Satisfied he wouldn’t move, Harry let loose of Louis’ wrists, his hand falling to the top of his shoulders for leverage, covering nearly an entire blade from the span of it. His other was occupied with the crevice of Louis’ arse. Curious, hungry for what pleasure lay beneath the frail black cotton. 

Louis caught his lip a split second before contact. An entire hand sliding down to his taint, cupping his offered mound and rubbing once, twice, a final time before he _dragged_ it back up. It sent something delicious to Louis’ groin, his virgin hole clenching around nothing.

Harry’s heart’s desires were known, they’d be set in stone and Louis doubted his adore not one bit. But coming down to this, the physical, the part of him he’d yet to reveal, a thought passed through Louis' mind as those a fingers slipped past his underwear, breaching the final obstacle that aroused him beyond any point of fear. Harry may be a sexual novice, inexperienced and deprived but when given permission, probably would have no intention of stopping until he had fully slaked his desires on the feast that Louis’ body provided. The thought of being loved so dearly but when he needed it, when he _craved_ it, used so salaciously was all a wild mix of innocence, curiosity and pure animalistic sex that had Louis’ knees struggling to keep him upright. 

Lips were at his neck again, hot breath and wet kisses between his fingers' exploration. 

“Everything about you is exquisite, Lou,” Harry’s voice was ruined, choked by lust but dark enough to make Louis listen, he’d never stopped, “so lovely, so perfect.”

Without warning he bit down and Louis _mewled_ so sweetly Harry had to stop himself from plunging into that tight heat right there and then. The fingers at Louis’ shoulder dug into their foundation, gathering up the material so to expose more of his lower back, pressing him further into the wood, needing more submission, more of _Louis_. 

“I want you.”

He’d known Harry a lifetime, this felt easier to slip into than any sexual experience he’d had. 

“Here.”

It had taken longer getting there, but now it’d hit, it exploded on impact. 

“Now.”

Maybe it’d been working below the surface this entire time? He doesn’t know, but he knows how he feels right now. Is the most sure of _anything_ he’d felt in the past six tempestuous weeks. 

“Always.”

Flesh burned, bodies pulsed and Louis was growing mad from the tip of a single, thick, digit-

"Louis?"

-all intentions evaporated, all actions discarded into the thick air around them. Limbs coming to total freeze when there was a set of footsteps, a shuffle and _knock_ at the door. Not the door Louis was painted on, but the one next to it. Double doors. Double solid oak doors. Louis had never appreciated the design of a door so much before now, solid wood with a tiny frosted window that was head height - on most - so no one could see _that_ clearly in or out of the room. 

“Louis duck?” Female. The door handle rattled.

“M- _Miss Suldon?_ ” Louis winces at the squeak in his voice, forcing it level out, “Careful, I’m… I’m just trying to fix the door.”

What?

Her response came muffled from behind the solid wood but too close for his current situation to be any less risky. 

“Oh uhm, okay. Is everything alright?”

“ _Yes_ , yes. Just don’t- uh, give me a second.” 

He glared at Harry.

“I hate to cut creativity short but I’m afraid you’re well over your hour honey.” 

Shit. 

Harry’s face spoke bounds and Louis tried not to laugh. He extracted his hands from all regions in an instant, swivelling him round with a panic that had Louis’ heart fluttering for some reason. He was ripped out of the erotic blur they’d worked up and suddenly now reality didn’t line up he was confused and looking quite lost as he helped Louis pull his clothing back over the swell of his behind without instruction. 

“Apologies Miss, j-just give me a second and I’ll be right out.”

She replied with a chirpy approval, blissfully unaware to the obscenities happening inches away. Her heels clicking down the corridor was a breath of relief for them both and Louis giggled when he aimed a swift kiss to Harry’s nose, the tower of a boy frowning immediately. 

“Let’s move.” 

Louis giggled more when the stare Harry was delivering didn’t let up, just followed him curiously as he scrambled around him and to the other side of the room where his belongings still lay. 

“Um.” Was all he could manage. 

Louis’ body was fuelled by the adrenaline of too many things. He was hot and sweaty for all the wrong reasons and had to clamp down on his lip to stop from smiling too much as he quickly gathered his things. When he met Harry again, it wasn’t up for discussion that Louis’ wasn’t allowed to carry his own thing as Harry plucked the strap of his bag from his arm immediately. Running a hand through his hair when he looked to Louis for what to do next.

“You good?” Louis flicked his fringe to the side, tipping his chin.

Harry swallowed, eyes still dark, mind still invested in the recent past. In hindsight it was too soon to expect a coherent response.

“Yeah,” Even if you were to walk in ignorant to the mischief that had taken place it was clear Harry was distracted and thoroughly gone with preoccupied intentions. Louis’ lips twitched as they stretched into a slow smile, “I know.”

Several minutes later they were emerging out onto the front of the building. Louis moving a little faster than necessary to avoid bumping into Miss Suldon after leaving no excuse but a note at reception stating there will be a sizeable cheque posted to compensate for the damage. The sun beats down on their already overheated bodies and they both put up a hand to shield their eyes. 

Harry reaches the bottom before Louis, looking across the road for a second.

“You walked here.” He hitches the strap to Louis’ duffle bag further onto his shoulder, squinting from the sun when he looks back, “Why?”

He avoided that question like the plague. Answering it would bring back the whole _thing_ about hiding stuff, deceit and lies and most of it has been against Harry so he just shrugs, swallowing down the guilt like molten rock. He deserves the burn.

“Fancied a stroll, fill my lungs with fresh air instead of the conditioned sort.” He nods to himself, looking down the far end of the street to avoid looking at him directly.

Harry smiles, pulling out a small set of keys from his back pocket and jangled them lightly. 

“So, that’s a no to a ride home then?” 

Louis whips back round then and quirks a brow at the shiny item dangling from Harry’s long fingers. He thinks about his sore limbs and how it would be good to let them rest rather than trek four miles back home.

“Ah,” He thinks about his poor behind and how he really wanted a little longer with those long fingers, “well if you insist.”

Harry was already walking past him and across the desolate road, to the parked Audi on the opposite side, “I most certainly do.”

The ride back was quick, too quick. On foot it would take him half an hour but that was chopped by a third in a car, especially with Harry behind the wheel. His mental instability seems to branch off into a small but very _real_ segment of road rage and Louis had lost count of how many times he’d pressed his own feet down in an attempt to break.

The conversation was flirtatious until it wasn’t. Harry’s mind choosing to glitch again at the worst intervals, reminding him he’d forgotten to take his medication that morning. 

“It’s forgotten now, I just don’t want him to think it means something it doesn’t.” Harry sighed, pulling the handbrake up a little too harshly and scrubbing his face with his hands, “My Brother doesn’t take well to mockery.”

“I’m not mocking him. What I’m trying to say, is it was a pointless gesture and if I could take it back I would.”

Harry looks as though he’s accepting this, a look on his face that would normally paint him ferocious now makes him look like a disgruntled puppy. There was a start of a nod slowly arching its way up his neck until that frown suddenly deepens and he points his thumb behind himself, “Well… I can, I mean I can go get the jumper for you if you like.”

“No I didn’t mean literally,” Louis giggles, stops himself immediately with a hand to his mouth, but finds it much too difficult with Harry’s genuine confusion and starts up again, “God, he can keep the sodding jumper.”

“But you just said-,”

“- _Harry_.” Louis drew out the name, playful and teasing, head quirked to the side as he waited for Harry’s features to soften with gradual realisation.

“Oh.”

He leans over and plants a soft kiss to his cheek.

It’s cute and Harry grows almost shy. His head bowing in a coy manner that has him catapulting straight back to the Harry he’s more familiar with. Louis decides to remind him he was seconds away from being knuckle deep under fifteen minutes ago so there’s really no reason to be bashful, to which Harry _blushes_ and Louis doesn’t think his heart can’t take much more of this. 

He’s about to let Louis go, watching the seatbelt slide back over his torso, when he pulls him over the centre, grabbing him cautiously at first but once Louis realises what he’s proposing, _hauls_ his petite body onto his lap, arranging him into a comfortable position. 

“What’s wrong?” Louis snaked his forearms around the sturdy mound of his shoulders.

His thighs are the worst thing, absolutely awful. Straddling his own. They’re too much and not enough and he runs his hands over them, splaying his fingers wide over the tan skin and tight muscle until he reaches the opening of his shorts.

Harry didn’t think this through. 

His fast returning and twitching arousal doesn’t go a miss by Louis as he wriggled his bum a fraction enjoying the stifled groan it emitted from Harry. He lets Louis kiss him, inhaling deeply before nipping a little at his lip as punishment.

He hummed in satisfaction and peered at the temptation in his lap through lowered lids, “I just needed to feel you in my lap.” 

Louis pecks a dimple, rolls his eyes. He leans forward and rests their foreheads together, both sets of eyes closing from the comfort.

“I don’t know why I couldn’t touch you before, but now I’ve started,” Harry opened his eyes to the most brilliant shade of blue ever to grace this earth, “I don’t think I can stop.”

“Then don’t.”

They stay like that for a while. Not much was needed to fill the space but themselves. Louis' fingers got lost in a lazy caress among the thick waves at the back of his head. 

“I - I can’t put into words how much you mean to me, Louis. Not because it’d scare you because I think I’ve reached your limit on that,” Harry allowed himself to see the humour, smile shifting onto his face as soon as Louis’ did. “There’s truly nothing I can compare it to.”

Louis shook his head, shushed him.

“It’s aright Harry. It’s okay.” 

“I want you to know, I want you to understand-,”

Louis flexed the hands in his hair, pulling a little at the roots, “-It’s taken me forever but, I understand.”

He didn’t need Harry to explain himself again. Not here, not ever. All he knew was this felt like the most honest situation, the purest and yet most precarious relationship he’d ever formed and his heart was already aching with the thought of their departure.

“I will call you tomorrow.” Harry seems to read his mind, runs small circles into Louis hips under the soft material of his shirt, “I have matters to attend to when I arrive home and they extend way into the evening so I suspect you will be asleep by the time I finish.”

Louis pouts, a part of him deflating at the thought of him going back there. The reality of their separation coming like a cold back hand to the face.

“Okay.” He looked down, fiddling with the silver cross around Harry’s neck.

“Hey,” Harry’s thumbs stilled, his voice firm and Louis was doe eyed when he looked back up, “what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head in ernest, the smallest smiles playing on his lips that didn’t fool Harry one bit. But the soft kiss he was graced with and the armful of Louis he suddenly had convinced him to let it slide.

They said their goodbyes right away, Louis making quick work of coming back from hiding in the too comfortable juncture of Harry’s neck, his broad chest and steel bands for arms proving to be a more than desirable cocoon to nest in. 

Harry waited for Louis to be more than half way up his drive, right up until the point came where he had to disappear behind the greenery and he took off with an throaty roar from the engine. 

The smile didn’t shift once on his way up to his room. Nor did it fade when he collapsed onto his soft sheets, the pure white quilt ballooning around his weight and Daisy’s effervescent giggles somewhere down the corridor lacing through cracks in his door. 

He giggled himself. Maybe it was contagious. There were butterflies in his stomach, _actual_ butterflies tickling his innards and taunting his heart that transcended his soft giggles into a full belly laugh when he remembered the black one that was very literally drawn onto a set of abdominals he were growing quite fond of.

Then his phone buzzed in his bag, somehow the ringer had been switched on so the tone rang out quite loud. If Daisy heard it then she’d come running.

H: _‘It’s like you’re the sun and I’m the moon and well, the moon couldn’t exist without the other.’_

Staring at the pixels on his screen, the butterflies turned rampant and that void in his stomach sealed completely.

 

 

*

 

 

It was the dead of night. The sun had long since been set, the moon’s icy caress boring down onto the soft carpet where Louis had left the drapes wide open on purpose, the inky glow an association he can make with no other than Harry now.

It was so late in fact, that ten, maybe twenty minutes ago Louis recalled Harry’s earlier words and toyed with the idea of surprising him and calling him up. Because he wasn’t asleep. And he couldn’t sleep. Not when there was so many questions left unanswered, so many desires left untouched, so much _lust_ his body did all but rest.

Louis has discovered many layers to himself recently, things he may not have wanted to admit and things he were surprised were even there in the first place. But right now, as his hands explore his own skin, tending to his own desire, another line had been crossed.

He wasn’t touching himself as he would usually, so rarely but when needs must. It suddenly became so much dirtier as his mind took him to what he really wanted it to be. Raw, explicit, leg trembling masturbation.

And the intensity of the pleasure doesn’t fade. It builds, with each repeated cycle, the fantasy in his mind flowing. Sticky and swollen. Stretching his imagination and opening him up to his own dirty little secrets.

Hands pulling on his hair, necks exposed, full lips on pressure points and callous fingers sinking into the heat he was filling now. Fingers bigger than his. Fingers that would fill him so nicely. So tight.

His jaw falls slack - a whimper that can’t escape. 

A familiar voice so close to his ear he can taste it. Capable muscle moving around him, working him up so good. 

Toes curled in the sheets that stuck to his skin as he writhes. 

His wrist _ached_ with the effort, the angle wasn’t easy but the image in his mind’s eye was enough impulse to keep him going. Pushing, twisting and curling his fingers, desperate and chasing and messy. 

The release came suffocatingly fast and hard, bubbling in his lower tummy for so long when it hit it nearly blinded all but one of his senses, spasms of pleasure making his thighs snap together and his body clench. Burrowing his face into the mound of pillows beneath, damp with sweat he muffled any sound, focused on the aftershocks rippling the contours of his laboured body. 

He falls asleep shortly after. Ebbing in the afterglow, moonlight kissing him goodnight, sealing his eyelids before they close completely, quietly exhausted and smiling.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry for the late update but I apologize for nothing in this chapter or the following.

“So what do you call it when Jake Possinder gets two A stars, an A and two B’s?” 

“Sheer sodding luck.”

Percy side stepped the jab to his ribs just in time, accidentally knocking limbs with a chuckling Liam at his side. 

“ _Pay off._ That’s what it’s called.” Jake waggled a finger at the other two, “Pay off for all those nights studying. It’s no secret I’m the least academically enhanced among you fuckers so this is what all those evenings that you insisted I _bunk it off_ and join you in whatever frivolities you were planning counts for. All those times you made fun of me and my hermit behaviour.”

Jake straightened out his plaid shirt, a look so fond in his eye as he peered at the thick paper that Percy was braced for tears. Mouth turned down he peered at Liam who shook his head fondly as his friend actually kissed the paper, which turned into an over exaggerated eye roll and a _‘for goodness’ sake’_ when the kisses didn’t stop. 

“Awe mate,” Percy’s tone already had Liam taking a breath, “congrats on getting to second base with something other than your hand.”

“Okay, alright yeah, well done.” Liam felt very much like papa bear dragging the two infantile creatures down the corridor with him, trying to stop Percy from achieving his mission of snatching away Jake’s results. “ _Percy please_ \- um, yeah, no in all seriousness that’s excellent. I for one, am very proud.”

Percy huffed out a breath and fell into line at Liam’s warning glare, poking his tongue out to a smug Jake the other side. 

“Yes Possinder we’re all very proud. What does it feel like to actually _belong_ in a place you’ve been winging the last seven years?” 

Liam shot a hand out to Jake’s arm instantly.

“Enough!” This gentle sting was nothing but friendly banter but it was getting in the way of the reason why they were all walking the opposite direction to every other single student in the corridor in the first place. “P, wrap up your smart remarks for later. Or at least until we find Louis.”

The trio split to make way for a giggling group of girls that weren’t paying any mind to where they were going when Percy scoffed from the other side, rubbing an apple that Liam doesn’t remember seeing before now on his top and pointed to somewhere in the distance. “Well mon copain, get ready for round two because I spy a teeny Tomlinson just upon yonder.”

Liam looked away and as he heard the first crunch of the apple from Percy’s obnoxious bite, sure enough, there was a bustling ball of textbooks, bags and paper that had an expression far too indignant, hair much too perfectly mussed for it to be anybody but his best friend. He opened his arms but Jake got there first to call his name.

“ _Louis!_ ”

Apparently Louis really was wrapped up in whatever annoyance his phone was offering because he nearly dropped the entire stack of paper he had tucked under his right arm, along with the folder brimming with overflowing bindings. 

“Oh - guys, hi,” He locked his phone, eyes widening too much in that split second of letting new company settle that it didn’t go a miss by the middle boy. Nothing much ever gets past Liam. “Um, what are you doing here?”

“It’s results day?” Liam was pissed already. Quite put off by Louis’ immediately dismissive comment on them surprising him despite him telling them to just meet him later. “Thought you might enjoy a little pick me up with the stress of… well.” 

He motioned to the hoard of books Louis was desperately trying to juggle, hitching up a bag onto his bony shoulder.

“Exactly the reason why I said don’t bother looking for me. I have to return all these and arrange the delivery of my stupid certificate, not to mention find Mrs Bundin before she leaves for-,”

“-dude is that the book we used last year for English Lit’?”

Louis hung his head to the side, letting his face do the talking. 

“Right. So it is. Epic fee you’ve worked up there.”

“Precisely.” Louis bobbed his head, “Which is why I really need to get going, I have a lot to do an-,”

He’d been interrupted twice in thirty seconds and he was _not_ in the mood. 

“-aren’t you even going to ask how we did?”

“I’m sure you’ve all passed with flying colours, aced the boards,” Louis flicked his hand and shuffled straight between Liam and Jake, the latter looking more concerned about the rage bubbling in Liam’s face than anything else, “and I honestly can’t wait to hear about them but right now I’m serious I have to _go_.”

A little underwhelmed by Louis’ reaction to their presence two out of the three boys sort of just nodded, bobbing their heads in acceptance of their friend’s curtness, mumbling little okay’s. But the boy in the middle was just about fizzing and shook his head. 

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird for a couple of days now what’s-,”

“-What? I’m fine? I’m absolutely fine. Look I really have to go, save me-,” Sidetracked by his screen lighting up, words failed him when the ones he started reading sunk into his bones, unsettling him to the core. “Um…” 

He licked his lips, still staring at the screen. Not quite aware of how he looked and the looks he was being granted with in the following seconds. It was when the left over of a half eaten apple hit his arm did he clear his throat and mocked offence, trying to figure out who was responsible for the assault. 

“Save you what?” Percy asked, oblivious and busy picking the food from between his teeth. 

“Doesn’t matter. Just realised I won’t be finished in time anyway, I’ll text you later.” Louis nodded, readjusting his grip around the phone. “When I’m done I’ll text you.”

He avoided Liam’s gaze entirely as he turned fast on his heels, making a mental checklist of whether or not it was worth it; of how bad the punishment would be if he returned the books tomorrow instead. Pace swift but mind distracted as he took off round the corner he tapped out a response on his phone immediately.

_Edward.S : ‘I’m not playing around. I operate a three strike rule. I told you I hate waiting therefore if you’re even a minute late you can mark that as number one.’_

_Louis: ‘On my way.’_

 

 

*

 

 

Even though he _knew_ things were left in the air the last time they physically spoke to one another, it was still strange seeing him. Still felt like they hadn’t seen each other in many moons longer than what it’d actually been. 

“Are we going to stand here until sun set?” The sound of his rings scraped against the door as he stood there with it open expectantly, staring at Louis who had muttered a hi and done not much else.

It took him a moment to remember he had nothing to fear here. There was nothing but a warm foyer to step into, the welcoming embrace of interior warmth and that fresh pine smell that he’s gotten each time that just seems to linger around the entrance. Perhaps it was floor cleaner. Stepping lightly, the soles of his white vans squeaking on the pristine floor he remembered that his tummy was invoking a turmoil that need not be there; it was just Edward.

“Did you get your results?” 

Although admittedly Edward was different. In an obvious way that Louis did not like. Forgetting the short yet mildly threatening language used in the text messages that got him propelling his best foot forward here in under thirty minutes and precisely a minute early, he was greeted by a quiet hospitality in the form of a warm smile. He was tepid and quiet. 

“Of course, my sweet.” He lingered at the door for a second, back turned towards Louis, hand still gripping the handle. “I trust you killed every last one?”

Craning his neck, Louis peered up at the overwhelming chandelier glistening away in all it’s imposing glory right above their heads. A couple of rows of jewels were wobbling as if he’d just missed a tremor through the very house itself. Just another thing that added to this unsolicited feeling of disjoint. 

“Obviously.” He giggled but it ended before the smile reached his eyes, a short echo cut short when he brought his head back to find Edward no four or five inches away. His heart leapt up to his throat while his feet fought to keep their ground. The boy said nothing. Just sighed and stood without cause, surveying everything that Louis was, eyes tacking onto the delicate features of his face as his jaw flexed with hands concealed in a hold behind his back. 

“W-what about you? Satisfied? With being a year late to studies were there any different, um,” Louis caught the sound of laughter echoing from somewhere deeper in the otherwise silent house, “procedures or?”

Something crackled, like a fire. It was a blunt sound but nearby. 

“Everything is the same.” Edward didn’t blink before he’d taken a hold of Louis’ wrist, pulling it up to waist height while his fingers worked their way in-between, all fluid motion and confidence resumed. “I’ve missed you.”

Lost in the scent that has only ever belonged to Edward, Louis finds himself leaning a little into his firm hold, completely mesmerised by whatever spell he’d cast upon taking his hand that he feels the press of warm lips before he sees it. His breath hitches, eyes slipping close as the tender affection was laid upon his cheek gently. Louis prepares to avoid the lips in the moments to come but is taken by the utmost surprise when nothing of the sort happens and is left to stand there for a moment, eyes still shut.

Edward simply straightens back up and let’s his hand drop softly again to his side. Something about it all too chivalrous and so uncharacteristic it’s difficult to know what to do with one’s self.

“Blue is your colour.” Persian green eyes flicker downwards then back up, a trace of mischief in them. “Do you know that?”

Louis blushes instantly and hates himself. 

“Um.” Blue _was_ his colour. Didn’t need some six foot lothario to tell him so. “Thank you.”

This wasn’t going to happen. He’d come here to put a complete end to their close involvement not fall victim to the charm that drips from Edward’s every word, pours into his every move.

“Sweet pea I’d much rather converse in a more suitable place.” Edward’s lips pulled into a lazy half smile, genuine though and with an outstretched arm that Louis may have spent a little too long staring at they were soon moving in the direction proposed by it. 

Moving into a quarter of the house Louis was unfamiliar with he was a little too aware of his feet and tried not to walk too fast or too slow or make it obvious that he was mindful of anything at all so Edward didn’t catch onto any of his discomfort. He was acutely aware of how Edward may or may not live off the reactions he manages to coax. With the man himself taking the lead up front, Louis has to tear his wistful eyes away from his arms again. What was different about him suddenly dawning and delivering like a buffered punch to his gut. It seems quite apparent that in the two weeks they’d spent apart, Edward had managed to get somewhat bigger. Not by an alarming measure, however there was definitely more bulk to his outer biceps, the mound of his shoulders marginally more defined than before and it was enough to be noticeable.

“Just in here.” 

Blinking away thoughts of how he thought it would be impossible to feel any smaller in said company, Louis followed the voice and walked before him, ducking his head as he passed. Soon as he entered, awe struck against his greater will.

“Oh _w-_ ,” He mouthed the rest. Only just keeping what amazement he had to himself. His current company’s ego was engorged enough. 

It was the dining room. Or, Louis considered _a_ , dining room to be more probable. Gracious, long and ornate. The left side was lined with large french doors over looking the east side of the gardens which seemed to extend in strokes of various shades of green for longer than what was possible. In the winter, there was probably a roaring open fire that gave warmth to the continuous cool pallet of whites and creams and harsh marble. 

Louis was drawn to the dominating feature of the room, running helplessly curious fingers over the back of the chair sat at the peak of the twelve place-set table. 

“Please,” For such a momentous individual, he can sure move quietly, “sit.” 

Chair legs scraped across the polished floor by Edward, stood directly behind him, as he pulled out the chair Louis’ fingers still rest on for him to take. He stood hovering and waiting for him to accept, which Louis promptly did after a coy smile and an even smaller thank you. He shuffled back into the satin cushion until his bum was seated appropriately all the way back.

“Never much liked those myself,” Louis lolled his head around to see Edward walking over to the right side of the room, towards a row of three ordinary looking oak chairs void of cushions, “too fancy.”

He had his back to him. A contrast to the entire room with dark hair and a faded grey Def Leppard t-shirt that had what looked like the arms torn off and obviously, jet black jeans. Even his ivory skin, the only thing that merged with anything pure, was tainted.

“Thank you for agreeing to come over,” Louis frowned, didn’t realise he’d had much choice, “I know you said you wanted to talk to me about something but before we get there, may I speak first?”

As if he needed to ask permission. Under his own roof. 

“Sure, yeah.” Louis suddenly lost all ability to keep _still_. “What is it?”

“You see I never thought you’d reach any strikes Louis,” Edward still wasn’t facing him, head hung in a way that accentuated the dip between his shoulder blades. “Always thought you’d be a good boy and respect those who are only wanting the best for you.”

Louis stopped swinging his feet. 

“Lying has never bothered me much. I understand the necessity to tell a white lie every so often, to keep the peace,” Now he was moving, with that custom ease and ominous intent with long fingers over the arm of a chair. “But something about lying and you just doesn’t… it doesn’t sit right with me,” Edward motioned to his stomach, “in here.”

Louis had grown abnormally tense and only realised exactly how tense when his teeth started to ache from that grinding thing he did when concentrating too much. He swallowed when he spotted something he’d failed to see before. That fatal jumper of his folded neatly on the mantelpiece. It was about the only out of place _thing_ in this entire room and wanted to comment on why it was even there; like Edward had been looking at it or something prior to his arrival but bringing his gaze back to the long band of black that was Edward, he decided to remain quiet until he was absolutely clear what was going on. 

“Lost your tongue, princess?” 

Or addressed directly. Liquid green eyes burning into him through heavy lids.

“Sorry,” His default response to such an accusatory gaze, “I’m just, I’m listening.”

Edward hummed, low and anything but friendly, “Good.”

He snatched up the back of the chair with one hand and walked over until he were a couple of short breaths away from Louis perched on the other and swung it round to straddle it backwards, arms coming to cross on the top of the backrest. The wood creaked under his weight as he sat, long legs bending either side, sporting a look of flat out mirth at the obvious discomfort on Louis’ face.

“Well being so I have your undivided attention allow me to riddle you something.” 

Louis held back a sound of some sort as he shifted in the cushion, fully aware of how his legs were now trapped underneath Edward’s seat that rose conveniently higher than his own. Should he laugh or weep? Would Edward move either way? 

“S’that alright with you poppet?” Edward titled his head on an extrinsic pitch, running his thumb slowly over the silver ring on his forefinger. There was something sinister in the way he stared back with satisfaction over Louis’ evident capture. Like the only way he was going to escape was when he wanted him to, when he’d finished. And Louis’ heart picked up at the thought of how they’d barely even begun.

He nodded bleakly. Barely bowing his chin to respond, just wanting Edward to carry on.

“Speak up.” Edward’s face hardened and Louis’ lost all colour. 

“ _Yes_ , yes.”

“First I propose a question.” The green of his eyes wasn’t even there anymore, they were nothing but black voids _daring_ him to look away. “Can a person be in two places at once?” 

This time he shook his head, mildly and almost unsure. 

“Your tongue is growing _lazy_ sweet pea,” Edward leant forward and his scent, that overwhelming cologne distended around Louis.

“S-sorry,” He shook his head again, too fast, overcompensating, “no of course not.”

The question was obvious enough but everything about this was making him doubt most logic. He’d forgotten why he’d came here. Edward was clearly in the mood for games, wanting to play with his prey for a little bit before delivering the imminent sting in his tail.

“Excellent.” The smirk took Louis back to the first time they met on the forecourt. “So the other day I found myself in a peculiar place, amongst people I usually wouldn’t entertain but for reasons I shan’t bore you with I was there.”

Louis side eyed the jumper.

“It was quite an uneventful meeting, _sports_ meeting actually. I was there to help out a friend,” When someone rambles on aimlessly Louis usually found himself zoning out, mind panning to other things because there was nothing more dull than people making a home run just to get to the point, “I’m quite glad I went actually because there was freshly squeezed orange juice and these white chocolate wafer things. I didn’t really care much for the talk but if there’s free food, where do I sign?” His chuckle wasn’t healthy. And neither were his ramblings. And that’s why Louis’ mind stayed sharp and focused. 

“Anyway,” The two arms crossing over the top of the chair, the sturdy forearms inches away from Louis’ face flexed a touch as Edward hitched a little forward in the seat, “it was a rugby team meeting, I was sat keeping to myself for a good hour, zoned out on most the shit they chatted really but it was fine.”

Louis’ phone made an audible buzz from his pocket and his bones jumped but those dark eyes didn’t budge. As his hands tightened on their sweaty grip to the side of his seat wide pupils were heavy set on his own, showing no interest whatsoever in anything but. It was almost as if he didn’t even hear the vibration, as if completely immersed in his own mind that everything else just, didn’t occur.

“Oh, yeah,” His tone was unreadable, “that was until I text you.”

There was that weird smirk on his face again, pausing for a breath before continuing.

“It was that day you kept ignoring me. Do you remember? You nearly had me begging for your attention, but then suddenly the tables turned and you sent me that cute little S.O.S,” Edward unfolded his arms and Louis flinched. He mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, “ _Please help me I need you asap_.”

“I-I’ve already apologised for being so dram-,”

“-shut the fuck up.”

Louis’ jaw snapped shut. His heart would _not_ give up it’s rabbiting rate. He’d tried to calm himself prior to this. Quite frankly fed up with this constant state of semi-fear around these two boys that he’d tried to condition his most natal response to it and control the embarrassing never mind distracting physical affects. 

Turns out there would be no such luck today.

“So I was a little moody. Little pissed. I mean, I’d done nothing wrong so it was bugging me why you’d given me this cold shoulder,” Louis swore his swallow filled the room and Edward thrived off it, “but then you rang me and shit princess you sounded so breathless if I wasn’t mildly worried I would’ve been turned on from how _fucked_ you sounded.” 

Dimples didn’t belong on Edward. Their connotations too innocent, too pure a mark for someone as jaded as him. 

“So I had to step outside for a second to take your call.”

Harry suited dimples. Harry definitely suited dimples. 

“I took some convincing, the boys were giving me weird looks through the door because they could hear me talking all rushed and shit,” He shook his head, cleared his throat with a closed fist, “but then you explained how you were rescued with personal roadside assistance and I felt a little better, just a smidgen. Percy, right?”

Louis nodded distractedly, tried to ignore how his damp palms were slowly slipping over the polished wood. He remembered Edward’s probe and immediately pushed out a dry, “Y-yes.” He continued nodding slightly, casting his mind back a little to the conversation in question, _desperately_ trying to figure out where this was going.

“Percy.” Edward repeated the name, confirming it once, then a second time with full lips curling around the word a little slower. “ _Percy_.”

And with a small frown, Louis could only nod again. “He came as soon as you replied…” 

But now it was Edward’s turn to remain silent. And Louis’ heart still never settled, growing paranoid from how hard it was beating.

He waited a few uncertain seconds longer. Maybe Edward was leaving this time for Louis to finish the story? He’d said it was a riddle so perhaps this was it. The name was supposed to be a clue. But around the same time his phone buzzed again the silence became too long and too excessive and those eyes became a little too hard and that _feeling_ , that fucking awful feeling of panic uncoiled in his gut again as the penny dropped. Realisation and dread being Louis’ poisonous cocktail of choice recently.

He opened his mouth to say something. But there was nothing. How was he going to get out of this? 

Edward knew he knew.

“When you told me the name of your knight in shining armour, I thought it most _odd_.” Edward tilted his head to the side, a vein had risen to the surface in his neck. “Tell me why I found it odd.”

Tears were heating the back of his eye sockets, the fear which propelled them too strong for him to swallow this time. Even if his throat wasn’t constricting from nerve shattering horror, even if the blood he could taste wasn’t his body killing himself so Edward didn’t get the chance he still wouldn’t know how to respond. He blinked twice, mouth open again, hopeless and shook his head. His eyes squeezed shut so tight hoping this was all just a bad dream that it was too late when he realised he’d made a big mistake taking his attention away for even a _second_.

A scream flourished at the base of his gut and pierced through his upper body, arms shooting out to stop the back rest coming down and _crushing_ his legs any further. Edward’s body weight was far superior to his own and his strength was tenfold so he stood no chance. 

“Tell me why.” Edward clamped his own hands over the top of Louis’ atop the chair, squeezing the knuckles turning an alarming shade of white and leant forward just a little further. “Answer me and I’ll let you go.” 

His voice was so calm it only made the affliction of his actions worse. The sharp line of wood digging into the top of his thighs was excruciating, pressing so deep he were afraid with any friction it would tear the skin. He steadied out his breathing with short puffs of air, pushing out the unwanted and scraping what drabs of oxygen he could. His nostrils flared, as he tried to focus, blinking away the glaze of tears so he could see the rogue before him.

“I…” The pain was blinding. 

“You what?” Edward was closer somehow.

“I’m sorr- _ah!_ ” Louis’ cry rang through the room so loud that maybe even the chandelier would shake like it did before. But any sound was muffled from the militant hand grappling half his face and consequently cutting off air supply, the cruel pressure on his legs only getting worse.

“Sorry for what, Louis?” Tears were there in full force, swollen at the rim and flowing down pink cheeks. Those of which landed on Edward’s fingers were ignored and the hand only tightened as he kept his bodyweight steady on the chair. “Are you going to tell me why you're sorry?”

He looked like the reflection you see in nightmares. When you walk up to a mirror in a dream and you know you shouldn’t look in it - nothing good ever comes from looking where reality merges with the demons of your subconscious. But this wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, this was real, he was real and the pain was suffocatingly real but there was something missing in the eyes, a darkness that reigned supreme and wasn’t going to give until whatever malevolent need was tended to. His hand lowered to catch Louis’ jaw.

“F-for - _oh my gosh_ ,” Louis pushed with all his might, despite him knowing it was unequivocally fruitless. He swallowed so hard Edward followed the lump on it’s way down his throat. " _Lying_ to you!”

“What did you lie about?”

Edward wasn’t human. No human held such strength and power over someone so clearly inferior in such terms and _enjoyed_ it this much. No human could surely lack such conscience.

“Percy…” Louis hung his head back, a speck of relief coming from the weight that had been lifted from his admission, “I lied about him.”

Humming in agreement, Edward sat back and stood up in a flash. He shoved the chair to the side and came to a crouching position in front of a trembling Louis. The size of his palms were palpable on Louis’ legs as they ran up and over the abused areas making Louis snap his head back and snatch up Edward’s wrists.

“ _P-please_.”

Edward thought it a shame a beg so sweet, from a face so pretty was because of a trial so violent. 

“Where was Percy instead, sweet pea?”

The dried tracks of tears come and gone were from the pain, his bruised thighs burning through the material of his jeans. But now the tears flowed for a different reason. He hiccuped softly as a thumb came up to wipe away a fresh one from his cheek.

“He, he was,” Saying it made it become something else. “at the meeting. Th-the rugby, meeting”

It flipped the POV. Gave him that insight again. Realised how once more he’d been careless.

“I don’t let many people _in_ , Louis,” His vicious tongue curled around such innocent words, translating them with brutal force, “So when I do, I expect the same amount of loyalty that I give, to be returned.”

Shaking from the relief of pain and shock, his voice failed him as he tried to speak, inaudible for the first two attempts.

“I-I’m _sorry_.” 

This is what he’s reduced to. 

“I know you are.”

There were three voices, Edward being the most dominant - always the most dominant. But then there’s his mind. He knew what Edward was doing was wrong, his actions would be classed as abuse of the emotional and physical but there was that tiny voice chipping through that sounded oh so similar to the precedence of the one before him, telling him that he deserved this. 

“I am no man to work off a hunch, I have no evidence so I say this with no conviction,” Edward let go of his thighs and took Louis’ clammy little hands in his own once more, stretching his long deft fingers between Louis’ and clamping down once he had a firm hold. “But my Mother informed me that night Harry had left the house unattended and unauthorised earlier that same afternoon. It doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to figure out why.”

There were zero ways out of this. Louis was at Edward’s mercy and all he could do was ride it out.

“I don’t want to much think about the possibility of what that means, after everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve told you.” Edward sniffed, looked away from the boy in his captive for a moment, “No. That’s a little too much. Drives me a little crazy that.”

Louis shook his head. Committing to nothing, confirming or denying absolutely nothing. Signifying only his genuine regret of what was already admitted, “Please Edward… please, I’m so sorry don’t do this.”

“Apologies mean nothing princess,” Louis whimpered faintly as he were helped to his feet, his hands still enveloped in larger ones, “actions do.”

Louis swallowed a weak sob. He’d become the punchline in a joke he was the originator of. He’d tried so hard to tread carefully around both twins but has ended up doing a 180 and amongst all the ignorance and selfish decisions he’d made, set himself up for a dangerous end. He was losing grasp on what was right and what wasn’t. What would someone else do? A much, much wiser person.

“I know,” Eyes falling closed, his lips quivered, “…m’sorry.”

“Shhh- sh,” Warmth surrounded Louis’ frame then, lifting his feet from the ground, “Come here. It’s over now.” 

“E-edward…”

“Shush. Shut up.” His voice was tickling his ear, no intention to harm as he collected Louis’ thighs around his middle and paced the room with him like so. “What’s done is done. Let this be a warning.”

“But I,” Louis was feeling worse by the second, confused and vulnerable, “you’re scary Edw-,”

“-my punishments are stern, but my intentions good.” Edward bounced him a little, hitching him so Louis could comfortably rest his head on the wide space offered between his neck and shoulder. “No one ever learnt anything from being tickled.”

Fingertips dug into his shoulders holding him upright, still not convinced. Confused but not comfortable. His unwillingness to comply to Edward’s offering was not received well and he was bounced to make him fall forward, arms slipping so he was practically hooking his neck. 

“I’m tolerant of many things.” Edward’s sigh fanned over Louis’ shoulder, allowing himself to indulge in the full underside of his thighs as he came to a stand still. “Disloyalty isn’t one of them. I can’t help the way I feel and I won’t apologise for being rigid about it.” 

All that surrounded Louis was muscle, dense and able in it’s purpose. All he could think of was Edward and how he’d done absolutely nothing wrong to him until now and how Louis is the one who keeps managing to fuck things up on both ends. How he knows what he wants, knows more than anything how much he wants the other but can’t help the feeling that comes with Edward’s arms around him. It’s not pleasant. Not necessarily. Just safe. Ironically. 

He hushed the voices for now, concluding the conversation he planned to have can wait for a later date, nuzzling and groaning softly as he did, into Edward’s collar. 

Something which his captive enjoyed thoroughly, humming deep and shortly planting a wet kiss behind his ear, “Good boy.”

Edward is far more mentally stable than his Brother but will still snap the neck of anyone who would dare threaten his safety. This act of aggression is just how he shows his affection. This is just Edward. Louis overstepped the line and this is just how he pulls him back. 

“But I will say this princess. Considering this as strike one,” Louis’ eyes pinged open, felt like his heart dropped to his feet when he heard the voice so similar to his but eons apart, spark up some distance outside the door. “Please don’t get to three.”

This is just his way. 

 

 

*

 

 

“ _H is calling, oh darling H is calling!_ ” 

Phoebe’s innocence was paramount in the list of reasons Louis hadn’t committed her violent murder yet. She was definitely the worse out of the sisters - abundantly dipped in the impudent gene.

“Phoebe give me my-,” His socks made him slide around the corner he took at speed, hands scrambling on the wall to keep upright, “ _don’t you dare answer that phone!_ ”

Her little legs may be at a loss when it came to being chased, but she was fast and small and was able to fit into small spaces aptly without struggle. Her mousy blonde locks were a blur as she slipped through the slim crack of the door way, pulling it close behind her. 

Louis groaned as he came to a messy stop, hearing her body plop against the door.

“Phoebe!” 

He rapped furiously at the hollow wood.

“ _Phoebe_ ,” He tried pushing against the weight, it was easy as she didn’t weigh much more than a tea cup but he was cautious of hurting her, “if you so much as _click_ -,”

“Hiii you’ve reached the voicemail of Princess Tomlinson, please - _please_ ,” She was cut short, a fit of amplified laughter as her Brother shoved the door open and ripped the phone from her grasp, “a - _ah_! - a message - _Louis!_ ” 

He checked the line was still open before darting back down to the floor were Phoebe was on her back, giggling away, and wrapped an arm around her middle. He heaved her upside down and dangled her like that, against her protests.

“ _Hello_? Hi, yeah that’s… yeah the one I was telling you about.” Louis bounced her upside down, unable to contain his own laughter at the tears streaming from the corner of her eyes, face reddened, “No she’s not, she a pain in my posterior.” 

It wasn’t long before the conversation begged for privacy and the minor was ushered out of the room by a bustling Louis, guiding her by her shoulder until she finally let him close the door, talking to him until the last second before the latch clicked. 

The sound of a lock turning had never felt so good.

H: ‘Louis did you just lock your door?’

“Wouldn’t you if you had the devil’s spawn for siblings?”

H: ‘I thought your parents didn’t approve of locked doors. Like the whole… what’s it called?’

“ _Free flowing feng shui._ ”

Harry’s low chuckle had a warmth pooling into Louis’ stomach as he huffed and sat down on his mattress. He smiled against the receiver as he wedged it between shoulder and jaw to lean forward and pull his socks.

H: ‘My parents would gladly lock my door for a week.’

Louis stared at a loose thread in the rug, faltering while his chest twanged. 

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

There was an unidentifiable shuffle on the other end, synchronous with Louis letting his body fall back onto his bed, kicking his un made sheets to the foot of it. He welcomed the coolness of a bed long untouched on the warm, bare skin of his legs.

H: ‘You’d come visit?’

“I’d move in.”

H: ‘And they say I’m outrageously keen.’

Louis’ giggle elicited a smile he was at the misfortune of missing.

“You _are_ outrageously keen.”

A few short seconds turned into a longer than should’ve been comfortable moment of silence, but it was. 

H: ‘I miss you, Louis.’ 

“I know.”

H: ‘I also hate you deeply.’

Louis turned over onto his side, smashing his face into the plush pillows in a hope to impair his next fit of giggles, wanting this giddy feeling to quit. 

“That too, I know.”

H: ‘Lou.’

Louis stretched his legs out, spread his palm on the brushed cotton, toes and fingers flexing. 

“Haz.”

H: ‘I’m not angry or anything so I beg you not to be spooked of what I’m going to say. But-’

Needless to say, Louis’ mouth ran a little dry.

H: ‘-I know you spent a little time with Edward yesterday and I know - I know it wasn’t anything but it killed me to let you walk away like that. Just watch you walk out and say nothing. You walked straight past me. All I wanted to do was collect you and…’

The deep rasp was magnified momentously through a telephone, lulling Louis into that daze he falls so involuntarily into every single time. 

H: ‘It hurts.’

“It wasn’t easy for me either Harry. I’m an actor, pretending is what I do best but-”

H: ‘You made it look so easy.’

“Harry, please don’t do this.”

H: ‘I can’t help how I feel.’

“I feel the same way, I think you forget there’s two-“

H: ‘I just want you to myself. For the first time I’ve been given a chance and I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose you Lou. And when I see how easy it is for you to pretend like that it makes me wonder what else you can feign.’

“Listen to me - I’m going nowhere.”

H: ‘I just need to know you’re not going to give up. Or get scared and run away.’

“I’m- that’s not going to happen.”

There was a silence. 

H: ‘ _Fuck_ I wish you were here.’ 

That giddiness rolled downhill into a pit of anxiety so easily that it didn’t surprise Louis how just one sentence made him feel ridiculously aroused out of seemingly nowhere. He swallowed at another muffled shifting from Harry’s side.

“I will be soon.”

H: ‘Baby it will never be soon enough.’

Louis’ stomach dipped, dragging his hand back towards his body to tuck between his thighs. His eyes slipped close at the long breath that if he tried hard enough, swore he could feel on his cheek.

H: ‘It’s our birthday on Thursday, my birthday. Come see me.’

“You- _Harry what the sodding hell?_ ”

H: ‘What?’

“Why haven’t you told me before now?”

He would’ve expected Edward to have at least brought it up. 

“Harry, _gosh_ , are you celebrating? We’re celebrating.”

H: ‘I do not celebrate birthdays. What’s to celebrate about climbing another step of the ladder of death?’

“Charming Styles.”

H: ‘Edward does.’

There was a pause. This time it was awkward. Louis bit his lip sensing he hadn't finished.

H: ‘I understand if you’d rather spend the day with my Brother, I wouldn’t think less of you.’

Louis shook his head, not able to swallow sufficiently to stretch the itching at his throat. 

“We’re celebrating. I don’t care what you say. I don’t care what Edward does, somehow we’ll… we will find a way to celebrate.”

H: ‘Lou, baby, we can’t. I wish to see you, nothing more. Anything more risks Edward finding out.’

Louis rolled onto his back, heart fluttering from the pet name but the beat dissipating as fingers fell to tracing around the deep bruising laden atop his thighs. 

“Nothing big. But something.”

H: ‘So you will come?’

“I will.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping a dignified silence.

“I trust you can be good for a few hours?” Edward was entirely disinterested in anything that wasn’t his phone, not even bothering to look up as he spoke. “Won’t be back until about 4 -ish. Stay sane yeah?”

Harry shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, frowning as Edward stalked towards the front door but faltered and backed up, plucking the remaining sets of car keys from the hooks, checking they were all there. The tinkling sound of the metal and the smack of his black converse on the cold marble were the only sounds echoing through the spacious foyer. He swizzled around on his heels without breaking his stride and brandished the several sets of keys looped around his fingers and threw a quick wink.

“Just incase.” 

Four seconds later, he’s alone. 

He worries his lower lip between a forefinger and thumb, padding over with socked feet to the one of the bay windows that overlooks the driveway. After absentmindedly following the line of flight of a bird taking off from the water feature he sees his Brother just beyond, slamming the door to his BMW shut and firing it up two seconds later. 

“Shit.” Harry blew out a nervous breath, fingers feeling blindly for the phone in his back pocket.

This was the first time in four years he’d all out lie to his Brother. Over something this big anyway. 

The house was warm today. The boys are so used to it being equivalent to baltic temperatures when the parents are away - which is four out of the seven days most of the time - neither one of them caring enough to adjust the thermostat. So Harry’s veins were already running with warm blood when he decides to take up a long overdue workout session, something he was able to do indoors and at peace without the risk of Edward barging in and ordering him to get out.

 

 

*

 

 

_H: ‘Edward has left. Won’t be back until after 4, so come when you will.’_  
_H: ‘Only if you still can of course. Don’t fuss if something has come up.’_  
_H: ‘My parents won’t be returning until early evening either, something past the hour of 7. So no need to worry about that either. Again, only if you can make it.’_

Louis is straining as it is to keep his arm steady and straight, but can’t _not_ arch his neck just that bit more so he could properly read the words that lit up on his screen just now. A steady smile was impossible to stamp down when he saw the second text come through at lightning speed and it was all he could do to not giggle when the third came not a few pensive thirty or so seconds later; practically picturing Harry’s face as he frowns at his phone and rewords the message over and over, proof reading five times just to make sure. 

“Dude, please,” The low voice piped up again for umpteenth time, teetering on the verge of annoyance, “keep still will ya’?”

Remembering where he was, Louis pivoted his head back round, eyebrows shooting up as his eyes flit down to the stencil on his forearm. 

“Sorry.” 

It was a ridiculous idea. Something Louis would usually turn his nose up at and maybe, all things considered, a little over the top. Too much too soon. But those three texts had Louis recalling why he’d gone through with this and why exactly none of the above mattered, not with this boy, ridiculous or not. If it were anyone else, that being someone of a lesser mind and a more prosaic approach to life and their chosen relationships then Louis would’ve probably side swiped the idea as soon as it even birthed in his mind’s eye. But this is Harry and Harry is ridiculous. And he is absolutely certain something silly and obstinate as this was more than perfect.

After one quick stop at Sainsbury’s Louis was well on his way. Within ten minutes he were a few miles out from town. Twenty more he’s pulling up to the gated community he’d memorised the code for the first time Edward punched it in after their ice cream date. 

He thought of this, as he weaved through the quiet, winding roads, passing luxurious estates all differing in size and design but having one prominent feature in common: money. It’d become a daily thing to ponder about how his parallel self is getting along in the alternative universe that is his life if the twins hadn’t bust into it two months ago. How peaceful he probably is and how the only marks he’d have on his legs would be from a foul slip on stage or something more common place. He’d probably have seen his friends twice as much as he has, would’ve actually taken Lucy to see the new Captain America movie dragging a kicking and screaming Liam behind them because everybody knows how he likes to make out he’s too _‘cool’_ for superhero crap but when the lights go down and the titles roll he’s silent and focused, throwing popcorn in the general direction of his face hoping it’ll land in his mouth.

Louis taps out a beat on his steering wheel as he waits for the tremendous iron gates to fully open, creaking reluctantly as they always did. Something about it was a little slower than usual.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tyres will never not be a satisfying one. 

Another thought slaps itself to the forefront of his mind as he pulls down the long, narrow drive. The night that was perhaps the pinnacle of all of this mess, the turning point to which he’d realised a few things about this particular boy that he hadn’t before. The night he caught him on the way out, after nearly choking Edward to death, after he’d witnessed the largest betrayal - in his eyes - he could ever commit. He thinks about his safe place by the river, the place no one knows about but him and Edward and how he’s never seen someone so peaceful. He remembers the soft voice and the solemn eyes and the moonlight. He also recalls mounds of muscle and the sound of blood thumping in his ears and tongues running dry. How such an absurd but strangely calm evening was brought to a numbing halt when Ben showed up out of nowhere and Harry’s effort to remain cool had nearly been wiped clean if he’d dared to voice another ill word.

He’d zoned out again. Staring at at the single scratch on his leather steering wheel, mind ticking away. 

But time. Time was also ticking away and that was something they didn’t necessarily have in abundance so clearing the ghosts from his thoughts Louis collects the large bag from the passenger seat, checks three consecutive times that he has his phone - because you know - and scoops everything including himself out of the vehicle. 

Reaching the front door, which Louis has to audibly sigh every time because honestly _why_ must there be so many steps, he knocks three neat beats and flicks his fringe to the side. No answer came so he knocks again, readjusting his grip on the string handle of the bag only to be left standing there for what felt like an age.

Craning his neck back to look at the side windows and what windows he could see from his parallel position to the building he squinted at the glass as if this would make Harry magically appear. He huffed and knocked again, a little harder and when yet again there was nothing he mentally mapped the pressure points of the human body so he could strike everyone of them on Harry’s when he finally gets inside this house.

“Has the mind of a criminal and academic genius,” Louis mutters quietly to himself, setting the bag to the floor with a careful drop, “yet sometimes is so _catastrophically_ stupid.” 

Fighting the urge to place a hand on his hip he lolls his head to the side as he waits for the line to pick up, having decided to call and find out where the gangly limbed oaf is in this monstrous household. But it’s apparent after several long rings, no response is going to be given here either. So thumbing the red circle with defeat Louis bangs with a closed fist continuously, feeling a bit of a hooligan. But he supposes the door has seen much worse so he doesn’t stop. 

In a moment of rage he reaches for the handle and tugs it only for it to open.

“Right.” He stands there, staring at the open doorway and the lit up interior available to him, “Stupid _and_ careless.” 

He shuffles in and finds an empty, echoey - which he’s always hated despite adoring silence - foyer and that smell again. The fresh smell that holds mixed connotations for him. Like everything, really. 

Louis roams around the halls, not leaving a door unopened on his way in search of the ten foot tall idiot that his fingertips are going numb at the thought of seeing. Alone and private. For the first time, there was little that could go wrong. If all went to plan, Louis smiled to himself as he closed the door to what looked like an excessive library behind himself, things would be very right indeed. 

Eventually, after following a cough echo from down a smaller corridor leading off the end of the main, Louis finds him. And out of the list of reasons - it was short - he’d derived as to why harry could’ve possibly misheard the raucous knocks and not picked up his phone, what he came to unveil hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

Louis places the bag on the ground next to him, a playful smile at his lips as he straightened up and folded his arms.

“Is it my Birthday or yours?”

The clunk of solid metal sounds so heavy, that Louis thinks it would make an immense weapon if ever needed and immediately checks himself because since when did his automatic thoughts turn so violent.

“Louis!” Harry was a little breathless as he stared back at Louis leant against the doorframe, head to toe black, looking like he’d just caused the worst kind of trouble and was enjoying every mischievous second of it. “You’re early. What are you doing here at such an hour?”

“Well I said I’d be round before twelve so.”

Louis didn’t look away from his body this time, not that confident as yet to maintain much of a confident facade around Harry but not crippled by fear to shy away from the licentious desire before him. Harry’s upper half was bare and wet, taught from the strain of weights. He wore grey shorts with some sort of compression pant underneath. Sweat, was his article of choice and Louis thought it’s the best he’d seen on him yet.

“You should’ve warned me of your arrival I would’ve been prepared.” His face spoke otherwise, eyes glittering and pouty lips turned slightly upwards against the seriousness of his word.

He may be lost in the process of mapping the defined lines and smooth mounds that joined one muscle to the next, but Louis’ sardonic by nature mind snapped up Harry’s comment and fought against it’s basic instinct to point out how he had actually _called_ him moments ago. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Harry shook his head, un ravelling his hand wraps as he dragged his feet, closing in on Louis’ vicinity. “Prepared for what?” 

Harry kept his eyes down, snorting at his comment. “For you, of course.” 

“I think you look more than appropriate.” Louis tilted his head the other way, still leant against the door frame. He was small enough that Harry could walk straight past him if he wished without having to turn to the side, but there was little to no chance of that happening. “Happy Birthday Harry.”

“It is now.” The smile on his face was amplified in his voice, like beams of light shining through the crackles in his tone. “May I have a kiss?”

Louis’ tummy _squirmed_ and his throat, giggled. Ducking his head a touch as his shoulder shook from Harry’s ever present valour.

“ _Actually_ , I think you owe me a kiss or three.”

Looking so much like a confused pup Louis had to restrain himself to keep to his position, Harry ticked his head to the side with a tiny frown as he stopped right before him, Louis admiring the thin headband roping back all the unkempt curls.

“Your texts were lacking earlier.”

“They were?” This seemed to genuinely trouble him, that frown turning deeper and eyes dropping as he thought about it, “Oh, I don’t know why… how careless of me.”

Louis was positively beaming when he looked back up into those kind, florid eyes. “Indeed.”

The lips that Louis had been looking at and involuntarily mirroring for the past few minutes were lightly pressed against his own then. Both sets of eyes fluttering close concurrently, lips slotting together so perfectly it was overwhelming yet so tenderly it was barely enough.

Louis inhaled deeply, fully expecting the foul scent of dried and fresh sweat to pierce the adorable moment set by those pair of dimples as Harry pulled back, but there was something viciously masculine there instead, not unpleasant nor stifling just virile and bewitching. Allowing his eyes another passing moment to devour what he could have on and all over him in the next breath if he so inclined, Louis let out the breath he took. Slow, with a little tremble he didn’t authorise, watching the butterfly on Harry’s sweat-slicked sternum move with short breaths.

“I thought you, um,” Louis shifted his feet, the steady drip, drip, drip of longing getting the better of him, “you didn’t work out inside?”

The hand wraps were rolled neatly and deposited on top of a cardboard box close by that had ‘Rinks’ scrawled across in black marker. Louis looked back up from _another_ guilt free surveillance of his naked torso just in time to catch Harry doing his own little once over, sucking his bottom lip before finally coming back before him. If it were Edward, Louis would’ve probably flinched, but he did nothing, said nothing, thought nothing, when Harry’s hand came up to rest on the frame of the door just besides Louis’ head. 

“When the Brother is away…” 

There were two swallows below his collar bones. Louis drags his eyes back up. “Edward hogs the gym?” 

He shrugged, “Prefers it. He’s been hitting it hard for the past couple of weeks.”

Ah. So that explains Edward’s minor size increase.

But looking at Harry, shoulders _actually_ blocking his view, Louis is readily reminded how his previous size was always big anyway. Forever petite and humble in measurements, Louis would always fall at the lower end of average and regardless of whether Harry or anyone else was 150lb or 250lb he will always be tiny in comparison.

“I’m happy my hobbies have a natural physical element to them, the idea of working out to just _work out_ bores me.”

The look of trepidation ran across Harry’s features. He was looking between Louis’ eyes like he was asking permission for something. He hummed, nothing else. 

And Louis shuffled on his feet again, standing up straight and thus becoming an inch or so closer to Harry’s slanted form.

“Do you want your present?” 

Green eyes lit up, “My what?”

“It’s not much, just, something little.” Louis pouted, a moment of thought. “Actually it’s kind of dumb and I’ve been second guessing it since I decided to get it.” 

Harry tutted and shushed him, looking like he wanted nothing more than to sweep him up in that very doorway, like the fact their bodies remained separate beings was fundamentally unnatural. “Don’t speak such rubbish, you know I’m going to adore it. Not that you should’ve gone to any such trouble.”

“You’re sweaty,” Which was true. And probably the sexiest thing Louis’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing, “if you want anything you need to clean up first.”

“Mhm.” Harry only seems to notice the large bag on the floor just then, an adorable toothy smile threatening to unveil until his teeth bit down on his bottom lip to stop it in it’s tracks. His entire body shifted forward, now blocking everything. Making sure he was Louis’ only focus, a hand on his obscenely tight waist. 

“Shower. Now.” 

“But…” His voice dragged over Louis’ will power, wearing it down to the bone when he leant in and planted warm, wet lips to his cheek just once. “you are the greatest gift I could ask for.”

There wasn’t a chance Louis was going to let another embarrassing sound past his lips after realising he’d done exactly that, eyes nearly rolling backwards as lips travelled further along his jaw, touching on his ear and _teeth_ nipping and pulling where it were most sensitive. Instinctively he tried pushing him away, hands braced on the broad scope of hardened pectorals, feeling the heady thrum of a heart beat beneath his fingertips.

“Harry…” Intensions of complete seriousness were erased with the surrender of his neck, hands still resting on Harry’s chest. “ _Harry_.”

It was more an invitation than a refusal and this really wasn’t ideal. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen, not just yet, not so fast. There was cake to eat, conversations to be had, his piece offering to be revealed, all of that before any of this. But now the muscle that previously enraptured his sight was moving to cater him and only him, not a limb left idle as Harry laced their fingers together, a gentle sincere gesture if it wasn’t for how he pinned them at Louis’ sides, pressing him against the door frame. 

“You make me, so…,” He didn’t stop the assault on the skin at Louis’ neck, the soft area so exposed to abuse at his will, “…Missed you, s’much.”

Louis nearly stumbled despite being painted against a solid foundation. 

“H- _Harry_ ,” He’d missed him more than he would be able to vocalise, especially right now, all he could do was repeat. And submit. 

It was hard to believe Harry was the least experienced out of them. They were both virgins, that much innocence between them still intact but Louis had dabbled in various other things with his previous beau, experimented but never gotten to that peak whereas Harry, he’d never been mentally fit enough to maintain any sort of stable relationship. That, and having eyes for only one person for six years running meant he’d had no opportunity or interest in intimacy in any form with another. So Louis was equal amounts shocked and _thrilled_ with how good he was, how natural is seemed to come to him to worship his body. He devoured the underside of his jaw, nipping and trailing down his jugular and began to suck a nice bruise into the dip of his collar bone, taking full advantage of the low scoop of Louis’ sweater. 

“Oh gosh okay, _okay_ ,” Louis had forgotten how he wasn’t meant to moan. Having continuously done so since Harry got a hold on him. But he pulled his head forward to stop Harry for good this time, fingers still caught in his. “This- you’re not playing fair.”

Louis didn’t want it to stop. But he had an appearance to upkeep. 

Harry was like a beast that had been allowed free roam, licking his lips, puffy and swollen when he pulled up. It wasn’t a surprise he wasn’t able to speak, all the blood seeming to have relocated to foster the distinct hardness gathering at his groin pressing so ardently against Louis’ it was maddening.

“Shower.” They both knew Louis was one more gentle kiss and hip roll away from dropping to his knees. “Or no further presents.”

There was zero conviction. Absolutely no dominance in his voice that Harry had to laugh. 

Regardless, he wasn’t one to push his luck too far with this beautiful little boy and he would grant him anything caring not if it worked for or against his own desires. There was conviction though in how Harry squeezed Louis’ dainty hands before letting go, power in his steady gaze even through the seemingly passive action of stepping back. 

“As you wish.”

 

*

 

 

“You enjoy war literature?”

Louis jumped slightly, whipping round a little too quickly resulting in a couple of books falling off the shelf he were idly thumbing through.

“Ah- _oh gosh_ \- erm, yes,” Hurriedly He shot to the ground retrieving the books and a couple of pieces of parchment that had followed, all fast hands and held breath, “- yeah I do. Do you? Are any of these yours?”

There was something satisfying watching him scramble around like that, an urgency about it that made Harry know he had an affect on Louis. Even if all else was uncertain, that is something he would never doubt. Especially considering the events of twenty minutes ago.

“Most are yes, I’ve read them since being a child. Every last one in this room actually.” He stepped forward then, helping him retrieve the scattered sheets off the floor. “I didn’t see you as a war story sort?”

Louis had cooled down. He was collected, buffered to Harry and all that he was and determined to get through at least an hour without anything getting above room temperature. He decided to have a nose around while he waited for Harry to clean up and remembered the library he stumbled across earlier. Every wall was a book case, filled neurotically from floor to ceiling in alphabetical and subject order. The one wall which had no books on it simply had a mahogany desk complete with drawers, a reading lamp and a brown leather chair that looked well used next to a set of glass doors that led onto a small balcony. The smell that he was met with was woody - similar to that of the beginning of the house, fresh oak and upholstery. 

“No…” Louis was momentarily occupied with obviously not noticing anything about anything and managed to speak out loud unknowingly.

He stood back and tried to convince himself he hadn’t noticed how close they were. Shoulders almost touching and how that alone had set his nerves on fire. He wouldn’t allow himself to observe the way he smacked his full lips together then subsequently letting out a long, low breath which made his nostrils flare somewhat as he concentrated, furthermore failing to admit how this was radically seductive and how it really shouldn’t be and refused to be overwhelmed by his post shower scent and that general fresh smell Harry always has that is now cascading into his personal space and creating a bitter sweet bubble that he wanted to pop instantly. 

“No?” Harry smirked, glancing at Louis whilst running his finger alone the spines of the books, still searching.

Already blushing - _always and forever_ blushing - he blinked and cleared his throat.

“No it’s not something I really talk about, or have ever really had the chance to.” He shrugged, tugging at the sleeve of his sweater. “I mean I read a lot, so, it gets merged in with the rest but it’s definitely a favourite topic of mine.”

Harry clearly heard but at the exact same time found what he had been looking for, so pulling out the book he nodded his head to acknowledge him and brushed off the layer of dust.

“Well if you’re interested in British ex-military then I recommend you read the accounts of this man,” Harry flicked through the pages before snapping it shut and handing it over, “Chris Ryan ex SAS. It’s gritty in places, but honest.”

Louis regarded the front cover, embossed and hard - probably a rare copy and thanked him quietly.

“Good shower?” 

Harry laughed, turned away from Louis to look for something in the desk drawer, “Divine.”

“All scrubbed up? Ready for me to give you the best thing you’ll ever receive in your live long life?”

The drawer snapped close and Harry angled his face just so, that Louis could see from the crater like appearance of the dimple on his cheek which indicated the sizeable grin plastered on his face that Louis longed to see, he’s learnt to cherish he genuine smiles of Harry Styles and takes great pleasure in his happiness. Especially when it’s caused by him. Especially now. Now as in the general now, not the literal, _actual_ present time because it had suddenly hit Louis what caused that _awful_ grin, beaming in it’s megawatt glory now Harry had turned.

“You disgust me.”

“You leave yourself wide open.” 

“For a touch so gentle and a manner so polite your mind is really so bad.”

“And this is news?”

Louis shook his head, not smiling. Absolutely not smiling. 

“ _Anyway_ …” He swivelled on his heels, hearing how Harry was already shuffling to follow, “Shall we?”

He led the way back through the house, navigating the long hallways with high ceilings as if it were his own. They came back through to the foyer, having taken a wrong turning by accident but Louis playing it off like he simply wanted to take the long way round, “So it took me a while to decide what to get, you’re not a particularly easy person to buy for.”

Harry mumbled something in response, a few steps behind him.

Itching the side of his neck, Louis practically turned full circle to throw Harry a _look_. “Stop that.” 

He carried on walking past the flowers and took the right towards the kitchen.

“Stop what?” 

“Checking out my arse and mumbling.”

Harry rolled his lips, drawing his eyes and attention away from the sashay of slender hips long enough to consider being offended. He decided that no response was best and from the little smile Louis flashed him before coming to an abrupt stop outside the arched entrance to the grand kitchen, he knew it was right. 

“Close your eyes.”

“Lou I’m not-,”

“ _Close_ , your eyes and take my hand.”

Never does anyone make Harry do something he doesn’t want to do - without the aid of drugs anyway - and so it becomes quite unnatural for Harry to slip into this role of having to actually take orders from someone who holds not authoritative right to him whatsoever. He regards Louis with a closed smile, jaw tense and slipped his eyes shut on a sigh. It was over exaggerated and Louis loved it. He’d been rubbing off in all the right ways.

“Okay…” He walked Harry around the corner, carefully avoiding the blue balloons, scattered on the floor, “… okay _careful_ , alright. Yes, okay. There, stay there.”

Harry pursed his lips as he rocked on his heels, Louis having let go of his hands to make a fuss of something in front of him, cardboard or something. 

“Open your eyes.”

The first thing he noticed was the cake. Hard to miss standing at what must be ten inches high, with what looked like rich, butter cream, mint-green icing slathered around the top and sides. 

There were four balloons, two tied to each chair either side of the breakfast table that had the cake on it. He stepped forward and when his foot hit something blunt but light like a feather, he discovered the ones littered around the floor too. 

“They’re green. To match the cake and because,” Louis swiped a finger over the buttercream icing and stared at it, “I don’t know your favourite colour, but green has recently become mine so.”

He popped the finger in his mouth.

“These are blue?” Harry pointed to the ones of the floor, kicking another one. 

“I know, smart arse.” Louis retorted, throwing one at his head, “I meant the other ones. The colours just went well together.”

Wading through the shallow sea of balloons, Harry came to the humongous cake, nostrils already catching wafts of that delicious mint. “My favourite.”

“I know. Thought it might make up for the tubs I stole.”

It was a sore subject, considering what Louis meant, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because Louis was so adorable and looking so pleased with himself as Harry leant forward and scooped a bit of the icing off for himself, a sound of happiness from his favourite food given by his favourite person. “Louis this is delicious,” He shook his head, reading the dark chocolate lettering scrawled on top, “It’s so nice, did you make it yourself?”

“Took me over three hours.” Louis scorned the cake, as if it were the reason for every single one of his problems. 

Humming around another mouthful of the icing that will be responsible for the next ten pounds of weight he gains, Harry turned to the boy and kisses him on the cheek, catching the edge of a tiny smile before he hung his head bashfully. “You’re so adorable, you know that Lou?”

“That’s not all.”

“No I know,” Harry was moving around the island, to go grab a pair of forks and plates, “I could go on and on about who wonderful you are, how simply -,”

“No, no not that,” Louis shook his head, nose scrunching, “although that would be very nice.” 

Harry kept looking at him as he closed the draw, equipped with two forks. 

“No, I mean that’s not all I got you.” He looked down again, arms shuffling with something beyond Harry’s scope behind the counter and after retrieving two plates from the top cabinet, returned to his position and pulled out a chair for Louis to take, but he declined, rolling his sleeve. 

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything Louis, the cake is more than enough.” The forks made a blunt thump when placed next to the plates. “Please won’t you sit… down.” 

Harry’s mind ran a blank as he was drawn to Louis’ arm, outstretched before him to investigate. Slim and delicate as always. His bony wrist turned up so this underside of his arm was revealed along with the ink etched there, that had Harry forgetting about everything leading up to this moment for the faintest second. 

“L…” His mind caught up and he snatched Louis’ appendage up in a heartbeat, inspecting the artwork closer with wide eyes and lips twitching around inaudible words unfinished. “Is this… Louis, this…” 

So that was refreshing. Harry was the one struck speechless for a change. Louis beamed. 

“It’s not permeant.” Thought he’d clear that up first, that way it didn’t seem _so_ creepy. “I don’t know if I’d ever get a real tattoo. But they said it’ll last for a couple or so weeks, thought you might like it.” 

Several emotions were tearing chunks out of his chest, leaving him to feel like his heart was exposed just like the image on Louis' arm.

“A compass.” 

Louis felt something pull at his chest. He nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Do you like it?”

“A compass, it… it matches mine Louis.” The minute he said it out loud, he looked up to see Louis smiling. The minute he saw Louis looking back at him like that it was confirmed. “You got this to go with my ship.”

“I thought it might be the perfect thing to symbolise what you mean to me. You and that brilliantly chaotic mind of yours. How aloof you get and how I’ll always be here to bring you back, you know, when things get bad.” 

He didn’t need to go on. Harry had already figured it out by himself and Louis knew that, so he let the moment sink in, Harry gazing down at his arm looking like there weren’t sufficient words to communicate what was going on inside his head and Louis really didn’t want him to try. 

"It's a bit sappy isn't it?"

Harry ran the risk of injury shaking his head so viscously, "No. Absolutely not."

“Plus, what do you get someone who has everything?”

Harry’s thumb freezes on it’s gentle inspection, his touch a fragment weightier than a moment ago. He’s still looking at the ink when he pushes aside the malicious thought casting over him then, knowing it was lying, Louis was there and he was his. He was _his_.

“I don’t have-,”

“I’m speaking materialistically.”

Oh. There it was again, that phenomenal ability Louis seems to possess which enables him to read his mind and swoop down like the angel he is and rip him away from that steady one way stream into deeper self hatred. His smile was so soft yet his blue eyes sparkled in earnest. 

Louis retreated his arm, replacing it’s presence with his whole body and leaning in to place a minty sweet kiss to Harry’s equally sticky lips. He’d sat down at some point, both too occupied with his stencil to note, so Louis balanced himself on the study thighs as he depend the kiss a little unexpectedly. Harry’s breath, cool from the mint, pushed through his nostrils as the boy between his legs twisted his head a little. 

Harry still had his eyes closed when he pulled away, hands clenched at his sides.

“So now the entree is out the way,” Louis’ voice was significant to something and it got Harry’s ears pricked, “shall we move onto the main?”

“That- Louis did you just use food as a euphemism?”

“Styles this has been cute and all, but if you do not make a move on me in the next half a second I swear I wi-,”

Plump lips cut him off as two hands that felt too large to feel natural brushed down his back, pulling him in so there was no air between them, a noise bubbling into the kiss from Harry that neither recognised. Their tongues slipped past each other effortlessly, languid and slow but hard enough for it to still be desperate.

The taller boy moved his hands south, memorising the feeling of tight little muscles, a long curved spine and a sinful dip before he were able to lay his claim. He growled a little, feeling Louis tremble a little when he kneaded his behind once. “ _Mine_.” 

A sweet, _sweet_ moan drew from his throat, rising onto his toes to connect their mouths once more. “Yours.”

Just as fingers splayed over the voluptuous curve of Louis’ behind again, ready to take a hold of what he was so deserved Louis moved. He cleared his throat, learning from earlier mistakes and pulling away before Harry had a chance to get him to the point of no return, where he knew he could have Louis spread out and pliant. 

“All yours,” Louis hopped flat on his feet, stepping lightly backwards, giggling at the confused expression he was leaving in his wake, “if you can catch me.”

“What do y-,” 

Harry got his answer as Louis took off back through the archway of the kitchen, his juvenile laughter activating his own inner child, cursing under his breath before tracing his steps.

It was mere seconds before he were closing the gap and closing in on Louis’ ascent up the stairs, snatching this God send of an opportunity to soak up the vision that was Louis’ bum bouncing a little as he went.

“You don’t know your way around that well do you?” Louis shivered from the way he said that. Something very not Harry about it.

He was caught around the middle and tugged backwards into a wall of muscle, the wind knocked out of him in the best kind of way when he were lifted from his feet and carried bridal style down the opposite way on the landing. 

He was soon snapped out of his mini tremor when he was being led down the opposite hallway he were used to taking and led into a room completely different to the one he’d thus far occupied. Harry’s room was warm and cozy, walls all a rich cream apart from the one his bed rest against which was blood red. The bed linen was white though and this, above all else, struck Louis as odd. He didn’t know why.

But he wasn’t going to attempt to figure it out. 

“Nice globe, Haz.” Louis threw him off a little, closing the door and looking at the item instantly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, it’s antique you know,” Harry hitched Louis in his arms, walking him over to the bed, “it’s worth quite a bit actually. I did my research and turns out I got it for a _fraction_ of th-,”

“Harry.”

Harry looked at him. Saw the look again and nodded, “Right.”

There was something charming in how dangerous Harry was but how unaware about it he was most of the time. The virtue of his obliviousness is rare and just another reason Louis finds himself so wrapped up in this turmoil of a human. 

Harry had him on his bed in no time after that. Every level up they go, Harry takes a mental moment to realise that this is real and happening and Louis almost caught it each time, if he payed enough attention to him; could just about see the acceptance of reality sinking in, waiting for it to pass skin deep.

“Does this seal it then?” Louis was momentarily distracted with he plump sheets underneath him, the soft moulding around his lithe shape when Harry swiped up his attention by encasing his slim ankles far too easily and yanking him so his bottom slammed indelicately against Harry’s groin. “I caught you.”

The very breath Louis had used to make a sarcastic comment caught in his throat at the display of such possessiveness. 

He didn’t realise he hadn't answered, too magnetised to the powerful boy knelt between his legs. Feeling suddenly very, very weak.

His legs were bent, along with Harry’s torso that now mounted over him, blocking out the light from the window. Louis sunk further into the pillows and stared, open mouthed up at him. He soon realised this and gulped.

“Does it mean I can do with you what I please?” 

He didn’t even think about it, just nodded his head, still bewitched.

Harry enjoyed that. Coming down to take up his favourite endeavour of turning as much of Louis’ pure skin, purple. He bumped his jaw with his nose, arching forward just a touch more, taking the legs that were hooked over his shoulders with him and clamped down on the fresh offering.

Louis whimpered, legs wanting to clamp shut from arousal automatically. But he shook his head, fighting against it. He was daring to play with Harry at his most primal, able to gage the hunger from just one look that the thought of denying Harry access of something he wanted to badly was dizzying, probably dangerous.

“You enjoy toying with me Louis.”

Not a question. Harry was already instigating his alpha tendencies and Louis was so ready to submit, so ready to allow Harry free reign of his body. But not yet.

“N-no, of course not,” The stutter nor smile helped his case, “but it’s your birthday, not mine.”

Harry opened his mouth but the response gets stuck halfway as Louis pushes him off and succeeds in changing positions so he were on top. He prompted Harry to shuffle back into the pillows until he was propped up a little against them. Landscaping up his body, Louis crawled between his thighs, Harry itching them outwards a little further to grant him room and took to gripping him around the waist when their faces were level and their breaths merged.

“Let me?”

Louis kissed him once. Harry kept his eyes wide open.

“Let you what?”

He kissed him again, longer, traced his supple lips with his tongue.

Drawing back he hated the absence of warmth Harry provided, the sanctuary of strong hands but it didn’t matter, he needed to take the lead a little here. This wasn’t Edward.

He shifts down and settles between his thighs, green eyes tracing every move.

Instead of speaking, he takes his left hand and brings it to his mouth, sliding the index finger inside and then carefully pulling it out, tongue pressing flat against it the entire time. He pushes it in again, repeating the process a couple of times, slowly, to enjoy the reaction it gets him, dark eyes hooded and focused on the action. It didn’t help Harry’s aching how his tiny hand held his own, looking so small, an influx of innocence as he takes his middle finger alongside now, teeth grazing on purpose around the callous skin. Louis’ wide eyed and about to go for a third when Harry moves his hand and trails his wet fingers down to his neck, working the expanse of his palm to gently secure his throat.

A small gesture, a tiny movement that threw control off balance. Power was evidently laying within Harry’s favour, but he was unsure how to use it appropriately. 

Louis get’s the hint. There was only a spike of panic when Harry’s fingers tightened, looking up to see full lips barely parted, brow furrowed in concentration and dark eyes glazed with nothing but arousal. 

Nothing to fear.

He welcomed the cinch around his neck and kept his eyes on Harry’s when he worked his zipper, Harry dropping his gaze to watch every twist of slim fingers. The awareness of desperation was settling heavy around Louis. He knew how much Harry was hypnotised by this, wanted this, _needed_ this. And Louis’ mouth was salivating so bad at just the thought of giving him it, that as soon as his jeans were worked half way down his thighs he pulled at the band of his underwear to reveal the mammoth arousal he’d been fantasising about all week. 

There was a breathless sound somewhere North of Louis, but he didn’t look up, couldn’t. Was too wrapped up in the twisting of his naval, the familiar pull that got him leaning forward, both hands still curled over the band of his underwear, licking a stripe from the base all the way to the top. He was thick set and hard. So hard.

“You’ve got a big dick haven’t you?”

“I- I … Lou.” Harry is distracted and moans, his breathlessness only making his voice smokier when he delivers a harsh, “ _Fuck_.”

The soft palm wrapped around the base of his arousal was too much.

“You want me to?” 

Harry fell back onto his elbows and bit back on a growl that he almost couldn’t contain, didn’t want to come across too aggressive, didn’t want to intimidate. He was caught slap bang in the middle of cursing Louis for being so slow and testing, wanting him to hurry up, waited too long for such things to be drawn out or tender and not wanting to scare Louis away from something he was sure he’d only ever dream of.

Louis bit his lip, understood the translation without anyone having to say it. Harry would never succumb to a beg. So Louis wasn’t going to push it. He pressed his groin into the mattress, made his position comfortable as he ducked his head and engulfed the tip, closing his eyes and swallowing him down slowly, inch by inch, until he had all he could manage inside. 

Pink lips stretched around his imposing length, an dutiful tongue flat along the underside with every gulp, head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm, Harry couldn’t take his eyes away. An eager hand slid up over his hips and under his shirt, pushing the fabric up so his stomach was exposed, a flash of blue checking enough was revealed, running his hands over the bulk of strength on his stomach. 

Curses, coherent and non slipped past his lips. Louis was good.

Harry was stifling a moan from when he felt something entirely new, the tip of his cock suddenly sheathed in something tight and he bucked his hips up involuntarily making Louis gag. He spluttered a little but carried on like nothing happened. Harry panicked, rising on his elbows and with a hand to his jaw pulled him off gently.

“A’you-,” He fought to speak coherently, gulping hard, “Are you okay?”

Harry looked fucked out. Godlike, from this angle with his t-shirt up to reveal dense muscle, hair mussed and pupils blown.

Louis nodded, unsure of what’s happening. He licked his lips. He didn’t want to stop.

“I’m alright…”

Harry swallowed when he giggled and began suckling on his oversensitive tip.

“But you, you-,” The groan got Louis squirming, closing his eyes at the hand previously a tender hold on his jaw now a rough grasp in his hair, “ _Oh you fucking_ …”

He took Harry into his mouth properly again, enjoying the mild sting of his hair being tugged. The thick shaft sink into his mouth, feeling his full button coming up, noting the pressure building at the back of his throat but not stopping. He gagged again and Harry didn’t put up any protest this time, instead looking down to catch the entire thing.

“Shit baby.”

Through the haze, Louis realised. 

So he bobbed his head a little more, enjoying how heavy he felt on his tongue, how full he felt in his mouth and choked once more. 

He did it again and again. He did it until the obscene wet sound was nearly as loud as Harry’s intermittent groans. Whether it was the thrill of pushing his limits, the mild pain it brought or the adrenaline and _pleasure_ of seeing how such a perverted act had Harry not shying away but pushing his head further down, he didn’t know. But it got him what he wanted. He didn’t need to bring his hand up to touch his balls to know they were full. 

Harry’s breathing became worn. His hips twitching and his thighs tense.

Louis pulled up, slowly and teasing, savouring the taste and feeling of the mould of his solid shape. His mouth popped off the head and he let Harry get a good look at the string of saliva before lapping it up and kissing the tip. 

“You going to come?” Louis’ hand wrapped around the impressive girth, already missing the weight of it as he continued to pump the wet length up and down, twisting his wrist a little each time. He planted another kiss to the head, suckling into it for a second before sitting up. Harry’s hands fell to his full thighs as he came to straddle him, beating him between his legs. 

“Fuck,” Harry’s eyes slipped close, adding the image to memory. “ _Fuck._ ” 

Louis felt the pulse through his palm, his cock stiffen beyond anything he’d felt before as Harry threw his head back into he pillow, his own delicious neck exposed as his adams apple bobbed and his orgasm bolted through his body. He could feel the wet warmth of his release landing on his stomach. Tremors passing through his naval over and over. But it wouldn’t stop, it just kept going, wave after suffocating wave of pleasure as tiny hands worked his length through the overwhelming ecstasy. 

When he opened his eyes, he found Louis looking like he were fighting a smile. Blue eyes tinkling as he peered down from his position.

“You could've warned me.”

Harry was still a little dazed to draw any real response from his mouth. Fingers twitching where they lay idle on Louis’ thighs. He hoped his eyebrow raise was sufficient enough.

When Louis peered down, he did too and instantly shot up. 

“Oh, right, y-yeah,” Harry tried so hard to clear the croak in his throat, “I don’t - yeah.”

“You don’t touch yourself often, do you?”

Harry shook his head, staring at the mess he’d made and making to move when he found his cock twitching to life again. He pecked Louis’ lips as he lifted him up and place him on the bed, making his way to the ensuite, albeit a little wobbly, to return with a fresh towel and no jeans.

“Only when I’m extremely, you know.” He wiped Louis’ hands, missing the blush on Louis’ face as he did, making sure he got it off his sweater too. “Only when it’s too much.”

Harry stepped back from the bed, lifting his t-shirt to clean his stomach when Louis protested. Froze with a towel mid air, his other hand holding up his shirt he watched with curious wonderment as Louis sat on his knees and shuffled to the edge of the mattress.

“What’s the matter?” Harry probes, utterly confused when Louis raises up a little and pulls him forward by the band of his underwear - now back in place - and _licks_ his abdomen. “Holy Mother of-,”

Louis would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the copious amount of cum on his tongue. 

He lapped it up in an instant, looking up at Harry for every sinister second of it and swallowed. 

“Wanted to know how you tasted.” Louis licked his lips, just for emphasis really. Knew it would drive Harry wild. “Thoroughly.”

The towel was dropped and replaced by an armful of the tiny treat. Louis, truly was the best gift Harry could ask for and he growled into his neck as he laid them both back onto the mattress, making sure Louis’ neck was covered in his kisses. Writhing under his weight, Louis thrashed his head when it started to tickle, the onslaught of affection meant to tease in a playful way rather than an erotic and he desperately tried pushing against the hefty boy above him, fingers a loose vice around his forearms.

“Wait.” It stopped and Harry was looming over, a curious frown on strong features again, “I’m half naked. This doesn't seem fair at all.”

Harry sat back on his haunches, Louis thighs resting on his as he plucked the bottom of his sweater. He made sure a part of him was touching Louis no matter what, separation between them had lasted far too long for it to fester once more. He whipped the thin jumper off him in a flash and folded it non committed before letting it fall to the carpeted floor. 

“Are those, all you wear Lou?” 

“Jumpers?” He chuckled into the nose that bumped against his own, “I have a lot.”

“But it’s barely autumn.” Harry peppers a few secret kisses to the corner of his mouth, Louis chasing them lazily but Harry wouldn’t allow it.

He stared at him with a small pout before answering. “I get cold easily. I’m not like you,” He prods Harry's stomach and giggles when that earns him a gasp, “I need more artificial padding.”

The next hour or so plays out lazily. Harry showing Louis some of his favourite songs on vinyl, the scratched undertone of it really doesn’t compare to any other and it’s all Louis can do to not fall asleep. The mix of Harry’s body warmth underneath him, his long fingers dancing over his bare back and the soft raspy lullaby of his voice drifting past his ears as he sings along softly to a few lines at a time, Louis is feeling as safe as one could.

Whether they slipped off for fifteen long minutes it was nobody’s business but their own. This was the best Birthday Harry had ever had and the calmest they’d both felt in a long time. But eventually Harry shifted, causing Louis to twitch, Harry almost forgetting he were there he was so light. 

“Baby.” 

Louis stretches, pushing his face into the warmth of Harry’s chest.

“Mmh?” He was so happy.

“We shouldn’t sleep. Won’t sleep tonight.”

“Okay Mum.”

Harry rolls over and nearly squishes the poor boy, but Louis doesn’t mind, just smiles and stretched out a little more with the help of Harry holding his hands above his head. He kisses Louis softly. 

“Cheek.”

“Cake?” Louis licks his lips, adores the taste Harry leaves behind. “Did you say cake?”

Harry nips at his nose.

“I could eat some cake.” Louis nods, but envelopes his legs around Harry’s middle, “Shall I go get us some?”

A thought passes through Harry’s mind, already kissing Louis again after mumbling an agreeance. Now he’s discovered he tastes sweeter than he’s ever imagined, it’s most difficult to break away but he has to, if he was going to get his way. And this time, he was. No matter what Louis says.

He pulls away, wordlessly and asks Louis to turn around. He fidgets underneath the mass of his body but doesn’t comply, instead tries to kiss him again. So when he leans in Harry turns his head, ducks down so his lips are next to his ear, “Turn around. Now.”

That pink tinge is back in Louis’ face, his heart finding it’s nerve again as the blood rushes around his lulled body, waking at the sound of command. After a small stare down, he complies and Harry lifts himself up, peering down at his pivoting body.

He stays there, holding himself up for a second before sitting back onto his knees. 

“Take them off, Lou.”

He hesitates, face angled against the pillow so he can peer back at him. But Harry wasn’t budging. Physically or decisively.

Twisting his arms behind himself, he hooks his thumbs underneath the band of his skinny jeans and closes his eyes as he pushes them down, his hips narrow enough that the front button could stay done. As he felt a gush of air over the material covering the rise of his bottom, he made a sound so soft Harry nearly missed it. Nearly.

“Good boy.”

Harry starts slowly, just his fingertips, tracing the edges of his shoulder blades, drifting down the length of his spine then coming back up and lightly massaging his shoulders and neck. After a while, Harry can see him relaxing again and he takes this as a green light. There was only so much he could wing. He was a novice after all, but something about this felt very innate, instinct kicking in just when he needed it. He leans forward, noting how this position was one of the many that made Louis look smaller than he were and lowers himself until his lips were a dip away from touching skin. 

“Easy.” Louis had tensed again, spine painfully straight, shoulders beginning to bunch. “Easy baby.”

“Harry…” It wasn’t a sob, more a cautious probe. 

It was obvious Louis was precarious about letting Harry have this reign, that was understood by the elder, but why, he wasn’t sure. 

Louis knew it were foolish to feel even a tiny bit dubious at this stage. He’d not only openly confessed his reverence for him and slapped a sappy symbol on his skin to prove it but he’s had Harry pin him to various surfaces so he could violate his body with little to no protest. 

Louis shudders as cold lips, two of the fullest pairs of lips Louis’ seen on a man reach the dip in his spine, feeling the trail of wet kisses dry from his slow descent. 

Thing is, there will probably always be that minuscule worry when it comes to Harry. The unpredictable side to him that nothing will cure. No matter how much he knows he holds his best interests at heart, his loyalty to him stronger than that which the stars hold to the night, he cannot forget the warnings he’s been granted, the stories he’s heard. The very beast he’s witnessed.

“Harry,” Louis' arousal was pressing painfully into the mattress, contradicting his annoying thoughts. “Wait.”

He’s shushed instantly, softly, but Louis doesn’t fight it. His breathing becomes a little ragged once those hands shift from his waist to the band of his underwear.

Only then, does he wait. 

Long moments pass where Harry does nothing but watch the hair rise on his back, along his arms, chill and heat passing over his skin that aligns with the various thoughts running through his muddled mind. He waits, until Louis’ body relaxes completely, shoulders falling, fists releasing the sheets and he breaths out the one thing Harry was waiting for, mind levelled out and focused, finally.

“ _Please_.”

There was an overwhelming urge to be filled. Only one thing could satisfy. 

Harry repositioned, engaging the fingers he’d had hooked in his underwear and began pulling the soft material up and over the swell of his behind, riding out a powerful wave of lust, finally coming down to crash over their deprived bodies, scratching at the forbidden itch that Harry was allowed to get a tease of earlier. 

His cock twitched underneath him as Louis lifted his hips, eager. 

Harry imprinted the feeling of goosebumps raising under his lips to his sweetest memories, lingering for a moment to appreciate the shudder ricocheting through his body as his underwear was already peeled past his thighs. Expert work from an amateur.

Louis had missed the removal of his jeans completely. 

Harry should’ve guessed it, should’ve been prepared for this tranquility to be shredded at some point for nothing was meant to be this good for him, nothing was destined to run so smoothly. Kind was something life was not. So he shouldn’t have been so alarmed when a sound that was unmistakable ripped Harry away from Louis’ perfect bottom, Louis’ perfect everything and out of their _perfect_ little bubble.

“Louis.” 

Eyes were wide, sat up to attention of something other than Louis. 

“ _Louis_.”

Delicate fingers stretched out mid air, flexing lazily as his arms extended blindly, “M’here… I’m right here.”

“Need to move.” 

The weight of another body shifted off the bed and the focused frown slipped from Louis’ face, a huff puffing his lips as he couldn’t be less concerned with whatever Harry was getting in a tizzy about right now. “Harry…” 

He dragged out the name, like he does when he’s pouty and tired or playful. But Harry was none of the above. And shortly, neither was Louis.

“Har- _oh my gosh_ ,” He was being lifted from the bed and swung over his shoulder as if he were nothing but a garment of clothing, “What’s going on, what're you- Harry. Harry put me down.”

He was fixed to the spot with a sturdy arm around his now half naked bottom, securing him so he wouldn’t fall but Louis would rather do just that than deal with the whirling sensation every time Harry swung around in a hurry for a reason he still was uneducated about.

“Need to move, get dressed.”

“Is this,” Louis had come to the dire conclusion Harry wasn’t _actually_ listening, rather just talking out loud, “one hundred percent necessary? I can walk you know.”

And with that, he was planted on the ground, not entirely gracefully and told to do so. Before he could fully frown, before any of his natural instinct to insist on some sort of explanation kicked in he finds himself flinching but catching in perfect time the jumper that was thrown his way. His jumper. 

“Walk and talk Louis.”

“Okay-,” It was muffled, flailing his arms around in the garment as he wrestled it over his head huffing as he pulled it down his torso, “can you explain the issue?”

“Edward.”

Louis is patting down his disheveled hair but stops at the name. Absolutely certain that every other hair on his body raised instead. Harry doesn’t see his face, doesn’t need to. The lack of impetuous sighing or general snarky response speaks volumes and he scoffs, “Yeah, precisely.” 

Louis is practically on all fours, feeling his blood running cold, _hearing_ it’s dreadful chant in his ears as he scrambled for his jeans. 

“But he wasn’t supposed to be home until-,”

“-gone four. Correct Louis. Which is most concerning.”

Louis stood back up, watching the many muscles work in Harry’s back as he wiggles on his jeans. It was an unfortunate, inescapable trait that he sounded so much like his twin at times, some of his mannerisms or abruptness seeping into his persona sporadically.

“How do you know he’s home?” 

Louis was already helping Harry sort out the bed spread, pulling the sheets up, ironing out the quilt and plumping the cushions.

“Have you not noticed the position of my room Lou?” Harry landed a blow to the centre of the last cushion and smacked it on top of the rest. He tipped his chin to the window behind Louis. “It’s at the front of the house, I can hear every car that pulls in and out of the drive. I know my Brother’s.” 

Harry sighed, pulling on a fresh white t-shirt and flexed his hands. He hung his head back and took a breath. 

“Hey, _hey_.” Louis looked back and lowered his eyebrows, hurrying over to him, “It’s okay, it’s your birthday. He’s going to understand, this is all okay."

Of course, he wanted to simmer the panic rising in this gorgeous person before him. But he was definitely trying to convince himself too.

"He's not going to see it like that. I can't be alone with you, don't you get it?" Harry held Louis' elbows as the boy tried to reach up and cup his face. "He's going to be furious. He'll kill me. "

“I didn’t want to have this conversation today, of all days but I just- why do you always say stuff like that? Like he’s trying to keep _you_ away from _me_. Like he’d punish you for seeing me?”

Harry looks, for lack of better wording, extraordinarily confused. And a little angry. 

“ _What?_ ”

“No, _no_ I’m not arguing I’m just saying,” Even _he_ heard the front door. “You’ve said before, in therapy, you mentioned something about keeping it from him as if it would reflect badly on you, as if you’d receive some kind of punishment for it. When, you don’t. And you wouldn’t.”

It was Louis that would receive the punishment. He was trying to keep _Louis_ away from _Harry_ , not vice versa. 

"Lou..."

Like he's said, he’d always given Harry free control of his actions. Free to learn, make his own mistakes. But Louis, Louis was not under any circumstance to seek him out intentionally. That was it. That was the deal. Louis nodded to himself. Agreeing with himself. He was right and Harry was wrong. He’d gotten the wrong end of the stick. Edward wouldn’t hurt his own Brother like that. 

Harry looked like he wanted to say something but turned around at the sound of laughter, returning with a look of horror and a paler complexion. Whatever it was, was swallowed.

“I thought we understood it’s me, who he wants to keep from you.” Louis is hurried along with a hand nestled int he crook of his arm, a little painful but forgiven under the circumstances. “Harry?”

A feeling, along with the response from earlier was swallowed and was roping itself around his lungs. He glanced at Louis as they walked out of his room, before checking they were still alone.

“I can’t help but think my Brother has been feeding you with an alternate reality, Louis. You speak of him like you’ve never met him before.”

Harry swivelled him around, looked in dead in the eye. He wanted to give him a prep talk, sort out even a basis of a lie as to what they’ve occupied their time with but there would be no such chance as his voice but a decibel or two lower rang through from the lower level. 

“ _Shit_.” 

Harry fell a little into Louis, their foreheads resting against the other, blue meeting green in a moment of uncategorised madness.

And it was gone.

Harry knew Edward was thorough in all things body language, had an eagle eye for picking up on misleading traits or deceitful behaviours and knew his Brother, a gentlemen by nature, would never walk before Louis unless it was in the face of danger. Which, ironically…

“Edward!” Louis responded to the call, cheerfully as he came onto the landing and bounced down the marble staircase, “Harry said you wouldn’t be back until much later.”

Harry kept a handful of footsteps behind, looking his Brother in the eye as he followed. He nodded in acknowledgement and received nothing back, just a cold stare as he addressed the smallest of the three of them.

“Sweet pea.” 

The front door opened once more and Louis side stepped the luggage Edward had dropped, looking up at the intruder only to be pleasantly surprised to see friendly faces and not peers of Edward.

“Sweetheart! Oh, sweetie Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday.” 

Mrs Styles, Anne, had entered looking like the demure goddess he’d always pictured. She threw her arms around her son, planting a rosy kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a lip stain. 

“Thank you.” Harry returned the gesture, avoiding all eye contact with a one armed embrace. “You’re home early?”

“Well, your Brother thought he’d surprise you on your Birthday and collect us a bit earlier than scheduled,” She clapped her hands together and turned to Louis, green eyes similar to the ones he adored lighting up something genuine and _warm_. “We would’ve been home earlier but traffic from the airport was dreadful - Louis, darling, it is an absolute pleasure.”

“Mrs Styles,” Louis is a little taken aback, wasn’t expecting to be introduced so readily to the parents. But at the same time there was something terribly overdue about it. “The pleasure is mine.”

“Please, call me Anne, although we haven’t _officially_ met I already know plenty about you Louis.” 

He side eyes Edward, swallows. Feeling a tad unnerved. Edward isn’t looking at him. Still has that stoic, misplaced smile on his face and it’s haunting. He doesn’t even dare risk a glance at the other twin, opting to instead help with the copious amounts of luggage only for his hand to be playfully slapped away and Harry to take his place, heaving the two bags with little trouble from the foyer, leaving Louis and his now Mother _and_ Father to mingle.

The following hour is an awful blur. Too much normality for Louis to handle. This was how things were supposed to happen in normal friendships and, well, relationships. They’d meet the parents, they’d chat, be social and then go upstairs while said parents pretend to not know their off spring is fucking the life out of the fresh faced, straight A student they were conversing civilly with moments ago over dinner. 

It was just as Louis is finishing up explaining exactly how he got so intrigued by musical theatre at the tender age of five that the first of the twins return, Edward. 

“Happy Birthday.” Louis’ blush is fathomable, but he isn’t bothered. It can be excused as being bashful of Edward’s prompt arrival, his joy at seeing him on such a special occasion. Not because he’s just had his Brother’s cock half way down his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you, Harry said you wouldn’t be around until late so I’m afraid I’m baring no gifts.” 

Louis holds up his hand in surrender, smiling but tightly. 

All the air gets sucked out of the room when he’s in it. At first he found it riveting, exciting and new. Now he realises he can get the same thrill whilst being able to breathe.

“He’s usually out now galavanting.” The only disapproval was mocking, but Louis could clearly gauge the genuine wish for Edward to maybe stay in once in a while in her voice. “So it was a nice surprise for us too, when Edward came to us with the idea of surprising Harry with a nice family meal. I’m sure Harry has explained how he’s never normally around on Birthdays.” 

Louis bobbed his head, lips twitching as he watched her rummaging around in the cupboard for something, reminding him of his own Mother.

“Yeah he did.”

Edward ignored the stool Louis pushed with his foot, leant instead. He still hadn’t responded to Louis’ welcome, eyes pinned to the cake beneath his nose for a painful moment, Louis waiting for at least _some_ sort of acknowledgement then. 

“Mum, may I borrow Louis for a few minutes?” 

Louis had never wanted to have his free will taken out of his hands more than then.

_Oh fuck please don’t let him, please don’t let him, please don’t let him._

“Oh Edward, he was just telling me about how his Father caught him twirling around in a tutu.” 

_Say dinner is ready, please don’t make me go with him. Please don’t make me-_

“-As tremendous as that sounds, you can continue bonding over dinner, I need to have a private word.”

Edward pushed off the sideboard readying to move, hands braced on the edge, arms like a cage to anything that lands the misfortune of being in-between them. 

Anne sprinkles some salt into the steamy pot of gravy, throwing a knowing look to her Son and chuckled. “Okay fine. But speaking of dinner it will be ready in five minutes. Do you hear me? Five minutes Edward. Tell your Brother.”

Edward quietly agreed and was already halfway out of the kitchen, the expectation of Louis to follow laying thick in his wake. Louis looks at Anne stirring and wafting the contents of another pot towards herself, humming a little tune he recognises, until he hops down and tries to keep his legs from wobbling as he followed in his footsteps. 

Gathering some non existence confidence silently as he padded round the corner, his body had literally just slipped out of sight of Anne when he was caught by the back of his neck and led a little further down, a door kicked open and shoved inside.

“You are fast becoming the reason for my insanity.” 

The light switched on, and it turns out Louis’ instincts of being in a confined space were correct. A storage cupboard. Full to the ceiling with boxes and an old grandfather clock stood dusty but proud next to the door. Next to Edward. 

"Do you know Harry was advised to use a stress ball when a little vexed? A _stress ball_. I prefer to use you."

“Edward what’s wrong?”

Why here? Was he that desperate to get him on his own? 

“I don’t have time, so I’ll make this quick.” Edward stepped forward, one long stride is all it took for Louis to feel like crying as he polluted his personal space with the sick intent pouring from stoic eyes. “Don’t treat me like the ordinary, I’m nothing of the such. I know when you’re lying and you’ve been doing it for some time. We’re going to get through this dinner civilised and proper, but before it ends you will excuse yourself, say you have to leave, you have prearranged commitments I don't care what just make it believable. I will offer to take you home and you will accept no questions asked, do you understand?”

“But my car, I came in my car.”

Edward grinned, "It's been compromised."

" _What?_ How dare y-,"

The soft touch from Louis’ outstretched fingers roused a hair trigger response from Edward, who snatched the slim appendages up in one, _squeezing_ them with a cruel force.

“Say that again sweetheart.”

His eyes watered, the bones in his hands crunching uncomfortably from the cincture. 

“I - _ow, ow, ow_ ,” He stared helplessly at his hand and the callous fingers a fist flick away from breaking it, “please s-stop, _ah-_ ,”

“I will stop when you do.”

Louis shook his head. He’d missed something. He must’ve missed something as none of this could be purely from turning up on his Birthday. He had no proof of anything happening, there was nothing either of them had given away.

“I don’t understand, I really d-,"

Edward bent his hand and covered his mouth just in time to cover the shrill cry. 

“I thought you may confess, but after what you’ve just so willingly said in front of my Mother and I it appears not.” His voice was liquid poison in his ear. “You say you knew I wouldn’t be around so you came empty handed, my Mum may be on the same level of dimwittedness as you are but it’s quite obvious to the astute ear that this means you were informed _prior_ to your arrival which can only mean you and Harry have means of communication and I’m taking a stab in the dark here, but I’m guessing you’re not pen pals. You have his number. I don’t know when you obtained it but judging by your unwillingness to be honest with me it’s probably been a while, but don’t worry, I’ll give you the chance to explain yourself later. In my car.”

There was, nothing to say. He’d overlooked something so simple. So simple that a mind as sharp as Edward’s had picked it up in less than a minute.

“Valiant effort at lying again princess. You can count this as number two.” 

He pushed Louis into the rack before he turns and leaves, switching the light off on his way.

 

* 

 

They’d ploughed through the first course and was now waiting for the staff to deliver the main, which Louis pretends to be listening when Des, the Twin’s Father, explains how they never cook, leaves it all to the chefs but wanted to make a special effort tonight with it being a special occasion.

Louis declined every offer of alcohol. He’d learnt the worst way that his mind needs to be kept alert. 

Harry knew something was wrong, jogging his leg under the table as he fought to keep put.

“Yes, my Son’s both speak very highly of you Louis,” Anne smiles, or rather, _beams_. The same dimples blossoming on her cheeks that do on her children, “We were quite upset once Edward explained about your birthday. How you then had to witness Harry’s arrest and so on and so forth.” 

Three sets of eyes were on him and Louis didn’t have the nerve to look at a single one. They’d been speaking about Harry as if he wasn’t sat _right_ there for about ten minutes and Louis found it upsetting. 

“Yes. You’ve learnt what you have about him and still want to stick around.” Des shook his head, swallowing a healthy helping of red wine before setting his glass down and shaking his head. “Incredible.”

Louis risks a speedy glance at Harry. He was already looking at him. Probably hadn't stopped. Louis looked away, his heart setting his rib cage alight.

“Edward has explained how you’ve been more than accepting.” Anne added, lifting a tiny serving of diced carrots to her mouth, before chewing delicately. 

It wasn’t even a conscious choice to look directly to the boy then, tall and intimidating as ever even sat down the bastard. His heart ticking away as that smile still hadn’t left his face. Nor was he returning any acknowledgement of Louis’ presence when Louis so desperately trying to acknowledge his. Just continued staring blankly forward to whoever spoke. 

“Don’t worry, all has been explained thoroughly darling,” His mother continued, voice alike body, slender and elegant and everything he imagined her to be, “I must admit I was a little scared at first to find out you had been informed to Harry’s infatuation and _disposition_. But the way you’ve handled it shows me your involvement in my Son’s life is anything but detrimental to his health. It takes a special soul for someone to stick around after what you’ve learnt but to voluntarily go to therapy and support him too, well that’s just astonishing character.”

Louis stares at the fork in his hand and considers stabbing himself over the chicken.

Edward didn’t know about the therapy.

He watched her point a manicured hand to her eldest Son’s face. 

“Maybe your presence in Edward’s life has had the same effect too. What with his selflessness today.” Her long fingers ghosted over the fading bruises high on Edward’s cheeks, down over the marks on his jaw, “You have a sobering effect Louis. One of these days he’s going to pick a fight with his match and I don’t want to see what happens.”

She rolled her eyes, Des’s jaw tensing as he just stared at his Son. Obviously throughly aware of his habits.

Louis’ appetite was lost, the food on his plate starting to swim around making his stomach convulse with the thought of taking anymore. He stared at his wrist resting on the table, his hand beginning to tremble uncontrollably. He set his fork down, a little too harshly, clattering against the plate. 

By demand, he looked up and straight into his impending pain. Edward was looking at him now, for the first time all evening. 

His mouth was hidden behind two long, ringed fingers, as they rest against his jaw. To anyone else Edward was harmlessly pensive, but to Louis, he looked harrowing. 

Those fingers moved but his eyes remained trained, cold and hard.

“I’ve just remembered, don’t you have somewhere to be Louis?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the people who celebrated, I hope you had a good Christmas. I also hope you enjoy this chapter. I love watching you all twist with hate towards my Edward. Anyway I have time to myself now so should get this completed pretty fast (probably not). Also, to those interested, I'll be posting a fourth chapter to Honey.

“Really?” Both Anne and Des spoke in unison, turning to Louis like their necks were strung on wire. Anne shook her head, kind eyes twinkling, “Louis why didn’t you say?”

Harry stops twirling his fork around to look over to Louis, confusion tugging at his brow.

He could play this out two ways.

He could deny it, say that it wasn’t tonight and Edward must be confused, leave later on, stay by Harry’s side all night and insist he calls a taxi. This would surely though, only add to his enormous wrath and land Louis very much in the centre of it, to which he’s pretty sure he’s been running laps around all night. Or he goes along with it, as to Edward’s direction, and accept the fact there’s really no escaping the storm that’s headed his way no matter how or when it happens.

“I didn’t want to be rude. The dinner, it’s- the dinner was so lovely and such a nice idea and you invited me to stay so I couldn’t- _wouldn’t`_ refuse,” Even the water he’d drank by the gallon wasn’t easing his drying pallet, tongue lapping at his lips every other minute, “but yes, I have to leave in about twenty minutes.” It gave him a little time to figure a few things out at least. “So sorry, I should’ve mentioned it.”

Maybe not figure things out, more prepare himself. Mentally. Because physically was out of the question. If Edward was willing to blitz his thighs with bruises over minor deceit then he thought it best not to torture his mind with the thought of what he had planned for him now having been hit with two blows in one day.

“Oh don’t be so silly darling,” His Mother was so lovely he felt almost guilty lying to her like this. Ridiculous really. “You are always more than welcome at any hour, any day. I just hate the thought that we’ve kept you, please, don’t feel obliged to stay, if you need to leave then by all means along you go. The boys are more than grateful for your presence thus far am I right gentlemen?”

She flicked a quick eyebrow raise to her Sons.

“Yes, of course.” Harry swallowed thickly. Nodded. Still confused. “Absolutely.”

Edward hummed.

He was absolutely thriving off Louis’ silvery blue eyes not being able to hold any substantial contact.

Fifteen or so minutes passed by, idle chat was thrown between them and when his Father was the first to leave the table, chair legs scraping on the wood floor, Louis flinched. Felt it in his stomach. The waiting staff were bustling about, already busy collecting the empty plates and glasses to be taken away and cleaned whilst he went to answer the telephone that sounded in the hall.

No sooner was Louis dabbing the corner of his mouth with the embroidered napkin, was his plate being whisked away.

Harry had been desperately trying to get him to look at him. But he couldn’t. If he did then Louis would be in danger of succumbing to the warmth there, the authenticity of his concern. Louis would crumble for sure. Break down, probably. Right there at the table and beg him to take him away from here, the table, the room, the house. Edward.

When he stood up, by nature Harry followed suit. Manners so deep rooted it took Louis a breath to keep himself from running to him.

“I should make a move.”

Edward didn’t alter his gaze at Harry’s valour, didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Just cleared his throat, eyes down looking like he wanted to smile.

Anne was understanding. Suspicious of nothing. “Of course, of course I-,”

She was cut off my Des, who’d appeared around the double doorway to call for her. Something about an upcoming conference in Berlin, so she excused herself with an immovable politeness, a grace to her motion as she swooped past Louis to peck a kiss to his cheek before wishing him a good evening.

“It really was lovely to meet you Louis, I hope to see again soon. The boys will see you out.”

And she was gone. Her dark hair swishing past the doorway leaving the three of them.

“Louis-,” Harry said it as if he’d been holding it in all evening. “You didn’t say anything about leaving? Are you sure you have to? You can stay as long as y-”

“-don’t try and sway him, Brother.” Louis gulped. He’d forgotten just how stripping Edward’s cold tones were. “It’d be quite selfish of you.”

“But Edward don’t you th-,”

“-I think you should let him go.”

Harry’s jaw tensed and Louis wanted to kiss it until it relaxed. Until Harry remembered why he was even here in the first place.

“I just find it strange,” Harry turned from rivalling identical, strong features to Louis’ more favourable ones, “that’s all.”

Louis couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught between two bulls to which he held the red flag. One wrong move, one miscommunication and hell would be risen.

“Apologies on behalf of my Brother’s probing curiosity.” Edward sniffed.

When together in a room, the twins were quite a dizzying contrast despite being identical. He walked slowly, felt like he were floating by the time he came to Harry’s side. Now Edward knows, now he knows they’ve been speaking, that they’re… friends. Familiar. There’s no point in holding back on acts that were expected from friendship. Knew he’d probably be pushing his luck, only sharpening the blade that Edward was readying to plunge imminently by doing it but he had to have this much, fear freezing him in most ways but dropping inhibitions elsewhere.

“I forgot to tell you.” He swallowed again, coming right up besides Harry who nearly tripped over the chair to meet him fully. “But I have to go meet Liam.”

“For what?” Harry’s response was immediate. Just like his Brother’s sigh, using his feet to push from the table and come to a stand.

“I promised him I’d go see him, haven’t seen him all week.” The last wasn’t a lie, slipping out with ease. He really hadn’t seen any of his friends properly recently and it made the urge to cry a little more pressing. “I can’t, not go.”

Harry’s breath ceased as two arms came to weave around his middle, tiny hands gripping his shirt at the back as he pulled him in for a hug. He was held in this small embrace for a few seconds, to which he didn’t return. Long enough but not.

"Happy Birthday."

Edward watched all of this from a distance, dull thump of shoes padding slowly around the back of Harry. Louis didn’t want to step to the side, he didn’t want to see.

“Brother.”

Harry dropped his hands immediately from ghosting Louis’ back, reaching out to touch him even though they’d parted. As if realising too late.

Louis watched him as he stood backwards, looking at Louis like he didn’t understand.

“Okay.” A large palm pushed through his hair, looked at Edward then at Louis. “Okay, let’s not keep you then.”

Louis could feel the chains unraveling around his ankles, bracing himself for it to catch at any moment as he walked across the room, waited for the anchor to weigh and pull him back.

Harry didn’t understand why Louis hadn’t told him. Didn’t understand the bravery of an embrace in plain sight of Edward, who wasn’t supposed to know. Wasn’t supposed to know they were friendly. Louis was brave, Harry thought, still standing and watching him walk away. He was brave and Harry was not.

Edward made a show of keeping within touching distance of Louis as the two boys escorted him to the foyer. Faked a pleasantry, a kiss to his cheek, lingered too long and intentional, knowing Harry was watching. He smiled, told him to text him when he got home and watched him until his feet crunched the gravel.

Harry kept silent, already peering out the bay window.

Edward took one look as he pushed back into their home, and scoffed, “You’re in hook, line and sinker.”

Harry knew he meant it maliciously, but the choice of phrase couldn’t be more ironic. Not when the image of temporary ink on soft tan skin, blue eyes smiling, was plastered at the forefront of his mind. Harry twisted his lips to stop from smiling, couldn’t let Edward see that of course if he were still even bothering to hang around, watching Louis sitting stagnant in his car.

Edward smiled down at his phone, nodding at the text he’d received.

Another thing falling into place. He walked slowly through the foyer, smiling still as _three… two… one-_

Good boy. No one defied Edward.

His brother had the door open before he could even knock.

“What’s wrong- are you okay? You forgot your phone?”

Edward stopped, turned around. His stare could set fire to Louis, peering over the mass of Harry’s shoulder.

The conversation they had was short, most of it incoherent with Harry rushing out to the forecourt at one point even though Louis looked like he was trying to insist it was fine, pained at the effort he exuded over something he couldn’t change. The sound of a choked engine was ripping through the foyer, along with a brisk wind with the door left ajar. And Edward waited. Sat down on the bottom step on the stairs, he sighed. Fingers coming to a loose hold as he leant his elbows on his knees. Comfortable.

Harry came back through with a hopeful twinkle in his eye, bringing Louis in tow behind him with a soft hand enveloping his. Tugging him gently, closing the door with one hand, eyes alive and attention drawn.

He dropped it instantly, pupils bursting and heart stopping when he saw Edward.

“E- I thought you’d-,”

As if Harry stood a chance of getting to drive him home.

Louis patted his pocket in a neurotic fashion, fingers sliding up and over his bottom too many times to check he had his phone. Still had his phone when he went to leave for the second time. That it was still there when Edward beeped his BMW open. Looking up to Harry stood lingering in the doorway before he ducked.

“So,” Edward’s hand came clapping down hard on Louis’ thigh and the boy could do nothing but bite back a whimper, “let’s get you home.”

He squirmed under his hold, which lingered there for a second longer, long fingers tightening a touch before letting go and pushing the stick shift into reverse.

Louis would still feel the sharp sting over healing bruises way into the evening, the dent in his skin from the metal ring even through his jeans. But for now he merely swallowed, eyes wide, body rigid in his seat as he watched Edward silently take them out of the court yard, not trusting anything about any of this to take his eyes off of him for even a second.

“Don’t worry about your car by the way,” Edward rolled his wrist until it clicked twice, flinching only a little. “Just unwired the ignition, something that goes undetected to the naked eye from the outside. I’ll make sure it’s back with you by tomorrow afternoon.”

The gates looked more tarnished than usual, maybe it was the lack of the early evening sunset which gave everything an ethereal, warm glow that even the most scratched of surfaces, the roughest of waters looked seamless. Or maybe it was a haunting reflection of Louis’ inner narrative. The gates have progressively gotten slower, the mechanisms creaking a little louder, the iron seemingly more worn every time he passes through them. Louis tried to ignore that voice.

Louis thought it wise to respond, given history of Edward’s disapproval to the lack of one. But he couldn’t. Fingertips curling around the edge of the soft seats, he wiggled his bum a little further back, trying to make as little noise as possible.

He wished for the ability to annihilate this fear. That way, when Edward pointed a haphazard finger over the centre console where his hand rest, he wouldn’t have flinched. “Pass my cigarettes will you?”

Cigarettes.

Okay.

Louis made some sound of acknowledgment, or at least thought he had, when he realised he hadn’t actually moved and was staring a little too long at him after that, lips parted slightly, and green eyes flashed him a look.

Fingers fiddling past some thick paperwork he found the pack. He held it out for Edward to take, but was surprised when all Edward did was take one and stuck it between his lips loosely, flicking his chin before instructing Louis to get the lighter. Which of course, he did.

They were coming to a stop, another set of gates. Edward clicked a beeper in his cup holder and leant across a little, eyes hooded but unwavering on Louis. And he didn’t stop staring. Neither did Louis, sussing out the fading bruise alongside his jaw, the tiny scrape atop his cheek bone.

“Do the honours.”

Louis’ fingers were shaking. Brilliant.

Edward would see. Edward would like that. He’d fucking love that.

And there it was. The trace of a malevolent smile unfolding in his eyes as he watched Louis, emerald eyes bleeding like moss, as he noted the soft tremble of the flame from Louis’ grip as he lit the tip.

“That a princess.”

Louis kept a hold of the lighter. A pitiful tool of self defence if he needed it.

Edward inhaled deep, closing his eyes. Neck arched, resting against the head rest as he took in the toxin.

They only opened again when he pinched the cigarette between his two forefingers and took a light hold on the steering wheel, gates now open. Louis didn’t realise he was clenching his fist until the hot poke of scorching metal singed his palm.

“You’re mad.” Louis felt brave to broach it first.

But Edward, he just laughed, smoke puffing out between the breaths. Said nothing.

“I know you’re mad, but I can explain.” He pushed on, eyes flitting to the fields outside whipping by now at an increasing pace, “C-can I explain?”

Another drag from the cigarette and Louis was all but a slave to the motion. Full lips that were capable of words far more poisonous than the item they sucked from, pulled tight for the smallest of moments and then relaxed, drug settling, working its’ way through his system, rounding the corners of what anger resides, soothing what nerve it can. Then smoke, filtering out through his nostrils this time, slow and swirling as it dissipated in the air before him.

Edward tapped the tip over the half wound window.

“Of course, sweetness.” Louis felt a pang of relief, something like that anyway. Let go of his own breath at his words. “As long as you leave out the part where you felt sorry for him, that you thought it would be an innocent act of kindness. The part where you were just curious and thought nothing would really come of it anyway, where you convinced yourself that Harry wouldn’t see it as anything more, that he wouldn’t get his hopes up. Especially the part where you thought about keeping it all a secret from me wasn’t on purpose, that it just kind of… happened.”

There was a burn humming at the back of Louis’ throat, his chest not expanding enough to take in sufficient air all of a sudden. He blinked once, twice, shook his head, mouth fish mouthing until Edward spoke again, voice harsh and broken, it’s razor sharp edges catching on Louis’ skin.

“Cut the crap,” Edward concluded, eyes lifeless and glued to the road when he took another slow drag, “then of course you can.”

Louis shook his head, “Y-you’re not being fair, you’re not.” Heart rabbiting up a pace in his chest.

Edward couldn’t appear less fazed if he tried, puffing another cloud of toxic smoke into their shared air, head tipping back this time to accentuate the languid motion. He hummed, a sound that should be soft. “Is that so.”

This is what scared him the most and this was the part Edward was the best at. Appearance. Masking true emotions, skirting around the issue yet somehow still managing to address it dead on with minimal effort. Everything about him was stoic but sharp. Emotionless, unreadable beyond what he wanted you to perceive yet sure with his demand, his unworldly precedence crystal clear at all times.

This purposeful calm he exudes gave Louis a shudder. A real, hair raising shudder. And Louis didn’t think such a thing existed from zero contact.

“I didn’t expect any of it, I didn’t plan it.” Louis paused. For a response he doubted, but a reaction at least. “After that night he found… us. It was all from then. It was the least I could do to give him my number, it just- it felt like a good thing to do.”

“Good?”

Louis really needed to reconsider his words. Edward was prompting him to do just so. Treading carefully had never felt so fatal.

“It felt like the right thing to do, maybe not the most sensible but,” Edward was squinting, coming to the end of his cigarette, tapping it one final time on the glass, “he was so upset and you can’t deny that. I know you said he gets like that, but seeing it- seeing that kind of genuine distress was so dreadful-,”

“-cry me a fucking river.” Edward checked his rear view.

“E-edward.”

“Princess.”

“Don’t talk about him like that. You know how bad he-,”

A sound intercepted then that one could only describe as a hum and a groan. Edward winced as he took one final drag, nostrils flaring, engine roaring as his foot pressed the pedal a little harder. “It’s getting exhausting having to explain the inner workings of my Brother’s illness.”

“I am well aware of his mentality. But you should really ease up on him oh-,” Louis’ palms stung with how they slapped against the dashboard, stopping from smashing his face from Edward’s sudden break.

Before he could curse his stupidity, his recklessness of forgetting his seatbelt especially considering the driver, his right arm was seized, palm turned up. He just caught the look of rage, the grit of bared teeth and emerald fire before the burn of hot ash blistered the tender region of his wrist, flesh splintering and burning immediately as it stubbed out against such sensitive skin.

 _“Edward_!”

Louis clung onto Edward’s wrist, _pushing_ , grabbing. It hurt so much, not just the burn, the palm around his own, keeping it down.

“ _Get off-_ ,” He writhed in his hold. Tried to wind his arm, twist it to pull away but it wasn’t working. “- _please just get off please-stop please-_ ,”

But Edward was solid. He was pissed off and stronger than Louis could ever hope to be.

“Don’t. Tell me what to do.”

Louis pulled his feet up, bringing his knees up to his chest for a second before pushing a foot against the centre console to push himself off, but by then Edward had finished and he nearly smacked the back of his head against the window with such a retreat. Edward sunk back and flicked the stub out the window. When it sealed shut he closed his eyes, listening to the hissing and fluctuating breaths of Louis’. Painful and drawn. Short and panicked.

“You’ve crossed every line I set, Louis.” He still didn’t care to move, vehicle parked carelessly in the middle of a country road. “Every fucking line.”

Louis was crying. Slowly, not much at all but it didn’t matter because what mattered was that he was crying again in Edward’s presence, because of Edward and it drove him mad because not once has he cried in Harry’s or because of Harry and he was so scared, so confused and utterly alone. Very alone and very weak.

“Tomorrow I may regret what I just did, but right now I hold no remorse. I warned you. Did I not? I _told_ you.”

Something tittered in Edward’s chest from the quietness at his side, and he was growing more disappointed by the second. By now he’d expected Louis to have grown knowledgeable to what he expects, the basic level of courtesy or respect and right now there was none of that. Each and every time there were little cues he had to drop to remind him exactly who he was talking to and exactly why he should go pick up his manners where he’d dropped them. He peeled his eyes open, rolled his head to the side, saw Louis recoiling. Shivering. _Good._

“Y-you need,” His featherweight voice was so broken Edward almost felt bad, “to move.”

Normally, Edward can feel the anger raise up inside of him like a steadily filling void, meaning he had the particularly useful ability of reining it in when it wasn’t appropriate and/or advantageous for him to let go. This was not one of those times.

He leant over, elbow resting on the hollow box that separated them, bicep bulging from the strain. Sharp canines flashed as he smirked humourlessly, eyes still as dull, “Sweetheart, why do I feel like I’m talking to myself during ninety percent of our time together?”

Louis repositioned his arms around his shins, gulped.

“I…,”

“-You know what really pisses me off?” He spoke with his hands, two fingers prodding at the leather as he spoke, “Even with the last time, the warning I brandished quite clearly on your thighs you still held these cards close to your chest, you still kept all of this to yourself.” He laughed, clicked the hand brake into place and swivelled back around in his seat, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Louis just really wanted him to move, anxiety kicking all other senses to the curb. Even the scalding pain in his arm was simmering.

“ _Please_ … pull over. Just -please.”

“I’ve done nothing but remain loyal. Tried to guide you, warn you and stop you from falling into his trap but you fucking jumped when he said jump and landed right in his net anyway. He has you by the balls Louis,” Edward made a fist, leaning forward expressing the most anger Louis had seen him ever, “by the fucking balls just like I told you he would. I told you he lies and makes out shit isn’t as it really is and look, look where we are. He has you lying to me.”

Louis was tucked up as far as the vehicle would allow, practically a human ball with his back pressed against the door a little painfully.

What was pain anyway?

“He’s - he hasn’t,” Louis fought the quiver in his lips, was sure he was shaking his head, “you don’t even know what he’s told me.”

Was it the physical? His wrist itching from his skin already trying to heal the wound.

“ _Of course I_ \- Louis I didn’t think you we’re this docile,” Edward scrubbed one large hand over his face, sighing. “It’s obvious from how you’ve been acting, the way you’ve been hiding your interactions from me, the fact you went to counselling with him, the fact you chose to celebrate our birthday with him today and not me. Doesn’t take a fucking genius.”

Or Edward. Just Edward and the pain he resurrected in his chest, in his heart every, single, time,

“You’re wrong.”

Louis was strung amongst a dangerous web of deception and uncertainty. Every turn he took a new challenge arose. Something he had to avoid, a lie he had to tell, a secret he must keep. New information that added to the haunt, only made his mind messier and his loyalty split further.

Edward dipped his head, flexing his jaw. He looked almost child like, pouting his lip before looking back up with eyes so soft if it weren’t for the scrawl of ink up both his arms Louis would think he were someone else.

“Alright sweet pea. Alright.”

The point at which Louis made the transition from curiosity and obligatory actions, to actually caring about these boys was long smudged. Some days it feels like parts of him are still able to escape. If he wanted. Like he would be able to just eradicate what’s happened this far by turning his back on both of them. Not his problem.

But there was no truth in that. This daydream was merely his body’s natural reaction to getting attached, the anxiety of reaching the point of no return.

Edward brushed fingers over his jaw, turning it up to the side. The brownish green of a healing rupture was present, more lengthier than Louis had managed to see before now.

“Do you know where I got this?”

No.

Louis shook his head.

Pulled his knees further into himself, hissed at the sting on his wrist when he forget momentarily and pressed it against his shin.

“And this?” Edward raised a finger to the graze on his cheek, just below his eye socket. “Do you know who gave me these marks?”

Louis wouldn’t believe it. He knew exactly what he was trying to say and he wasn’t going to believe it.

“Do you want me to tell you?” There was something naked about Edward, baring a part of him to Louis right now so open and different. Louis couldn’t pull away from it. Physically, his body remained retracted. But staring into a face that usually held little emotion, seeing so much of it now, was difficult. “Would it maybe cause you to reconsider?”

Edward shuffled again. “Or are you going to defend him? Because if you’re going to pull an excuse out of that pretty backside for him then I will press this pedal to the floor and throw you out when I hit ninety.”

At any other time, Louis would’ve laughed.

Any other time.

“T-te-,” Fucking stutter. “ _Tell_ me. Please. I want to know.”

Considering this, Edward allowed his eyes to go as they please, not a care for how he’d make Louis uncomfortable under that blazing stare, wandering eyes taking in everything from the wiggle of his feet as he still tried to make himself smaller to the pink tinge atop his cheeks where wet eyelashes slap against.

He took a breath, thought about how he might be right about the car, but when he heard that familiar buzz, he let it go. He clucked his tongue, head lowered a little involuntarily from harbouring such a pointed glare at the teeny human who’d nearly hit the roof.

Clambering after the annoyance, he finally retrieved it from his back pocket which it was half falling out of anyway and read the name out loud before he had chance to think better of it, “ _Harry_.”

 

*

 

“They’ve been gone six minutes.”

“Dear it takes at least twenty to get back into town you know this.”

“Yes, but it’s only a text.”

“He’s probably too caught up in talking sweetie.”

“No, absolutely not. He wouldn’t be- why isn’t he answering his phone? Why would he just, why wouldn’t he just text? I’m not asking him to answer a call just type some words. A word, at least.”

Harry couldn’t blame his Mother for being so blasé about it all, she had no idea of the level of fucked her youngest Son was operating at. Sure she knew about his obsession, his disorder that caused him to become unhealthy about even the smallest of things that were linked to him. But it started and ended there. She really had no _idea_ what Edward’s been like with him, no idea that he’s been warning him off him, absolutely no idea of how ‘him’ was now ‘his’- his boyfriend, if he dared to speak, and that they’d not long performed certain nasties under this very roof.

Harry paced around her bedroom. Grip beginning to take a sweaty turn around his phone.

“Look, my wonderful boy, you need to rein this in.”

Harry stopped and frowned at her, hand on hip, other still holding the phone and tugging at his lower lip.

“Rein what in?”

She pointed to her temple and on anyone else it would’ve been patronising, but she meant it to be anything but and he understood. But the thing is she didn’t.

“You don’t get it Mother.”

“I do, I know you worry. Look, his car is going to be fixed you heard what Edward said- he will see to it first thing. Edward’s got it covered. Your brother is taking him home this very instance.” She finished pinning her hair back with one more grip, a loose auburn lock falling down the nape of her neck that she seemed unbothered about as she sighed and turned to look at her soon properly instead of his mirror image. “Who else do you trust more than your Brother?”

_Everyone._

“Precisely. There is no one. Louis is fine, alright?” She tucked the chair back into place at the vanity station and walked past Harry, pausing briefly on her way to stop and give him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “He’ll reply. Edward is probably just chewing his ear off is all.”

It’s like she doesn’t even know her own blood. Edward, the bumbling conversationalist.

If that were true then count Harry as sane too.

“You have your present to open remember, your Father and I chose it while in London.” She was already gliding towards the door, leaving behind that flowery scent that takes Harry right back to his childhood, “oh and remind your Brother won’t you, when he gets back.”

Smiling, eventually, he nodded and allowed her to leave with a small thank you and nothing else. Toeing at the white carpet with bare feet he granted himself the possibility that perhaps she were right; maybe Edward just was mad at himself and being typical broody Edward and giving him an earful of how he should stay away from his mentally deranged counterpart. He wouldn’t hurt Louis. Much akin to himself Edward has a hell born temper and once riled it suits to steer clear of his path, but Louis wouldn’t ever be on the receiving end of that anger so he really didn’t know where this gut tumbling was coming from. Or why he couldn’t shake this god awful feeling that something wasn’t right.

 _He_ would be on the receiving end however, Harry was definitely going to get more than a mouthful but a fistful when he returned home. Harry wasn’t in the mood for fighting. He was in the mood for sleeping. Specifically curled around the back of a certain small individual with delicate limbs and a sharp tongue.

Which, yeah. Harry snorted a little, smirk stretching his mouth as he padded back down the hall towards the stairs.

He took the steps slowly, ridding the image of lovely rose coloured lips wrapped around the most indecent part of himself and listened to the pots being clanged in the maid’s kitchen just off the side of the main dining hall, the house’s eery silence allowing even the cutlery to be heard as it clashed with the pottery.

Reaching the bottom and nodding at his Father who came darting through the hall entrance, still on the phone, he puckered his lips.

It wouldn’t hurt. Just to make sure.

He snaked fingers around his mobile and pulled it from his back pocket, probably a weirdly appropriate time for his brain to remind him to take his medication immediately, having forgone the last two doses. He lifted it to his ear and crossed his arm across his torso, waited for the line to pick up.

Or not.

If he didn’t pick up, Harry would be beyond inconsolable. He’d be out that door faster than-

“Oh - _hello?… Lou?_ ” His insides twisted with he hope of hearing his voice again, his heart picking up for the same reason. But when it didn’t come and all he could hear was a scratched shuffling at the distant voice of who he was guessing was Edward, his blood turned thick.

He shoved a finger in his other ear to tune the world out, straining to listen to what was being said.

Edward’s chords were so scratched it was difficult for even his own Brother to decipher sometimes, having what people would probably call a morning croak permanently wasn’t ideal. Definitely not now.

“Lou…”

Knew he wouldn’t hear it. Just felt pathetically nice knowing he was on the other end. Whether he was aware of that or not. And it was a second before Harry considered hanging up, beginning to reason that Louis’d pocket answered him, that he heard something that got him grabbing the first set of keys from the hook and ripping the front door off the face of the house.

 

*

 

Edward’s glare didn’t ease up until he saw Louis tentatively thumb his screen and place the phone on the dashboard, out of reach.

“Exhibit number one,” A palm was raised towards the device, “ _obsessiveness_.”

“He’s just worried. He worries too much.”

“He _is_ too much. You see how you can’t be away from him for ten minutes until he checks up on you.”

“Maybe he just knows how rough you can be…”

“You’re speaking of torridness when you’re staring at a face marred by the person you’re defending.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Edward said nothing, didn’t move. Louis had to.

“I- I mean he’s probably worried you’ll get a bit angry, he of all people knows what it’s like to be angry and do things that you regret.”

“Be that as it may he still has no reason to worry when it comes to you and I. He’s obsessed.”

“He can’t help that- you know, it’s not right to speak about him like… that.”

There was a hand that belonged to Edward, Edward the larger one of them, the stronger one of them, the more enraged one, hanging over Louis’ side of the console. It was close enough that all Edward had to do was outstretch his arm and he could grip his arm, his ankle. His neck. Edward’s eyes hardened and that hand flexed, the sound of bones cracking as he leant forward again and spoke low and clear.

“Sweet pea if you don’t stop the back chat I’ll do something I will most definitely regret.”

It was truly menacing, chilling how his eyes didn’t even falter when he spoke those words. Explicit and smooth as he reeled off a threat to someone who was so clearly already at his mercy.

“Sorry.” Louis bowed his head, tucked his chin behind his knees. “Sorry.”

“Sit up.”

He heard him perfectly, but hesitated, pale blue eyes searching green for a moment.

“ _Now_.” Edward didn’t need to shout. His voice never raised above a low mumble yet still held rigid authority.

Louis unscrambled his limbs, knocking his elbow on the door handle in his less than graceful dissemble. He froze when he saw a pair of headlights flash up in the wing mirror, stuck to the image for a beat before looking over desperately at the driver, who looked on the more tranquil side of concerned.

“They’ll veer.”

Louis’ heart thumped. The evening was slightly misty, the low pressure making it damp but muggy in all the worse ways and Edward had long switched off their engine, which meant none of their lights were on so by the time the other vehicle spotted them it would be too late for them to curve around.

“Lights, Edward turn on your lights.”

Edward smiled, looked back between their seats to peer through the tinted back window and watched the vehicle steaming up towards them. He kept smiling as he caught Louis’ hands as they reached over the console, his half of the vehicle, in an attempt to flick the toggle.

“Edward, Edwar- _ow_ ,”

“Hush now.”

“ _Edward_!”

It wasn’t until Louis heard the prolonged horn sound loud and brash and passing, that he unscrewed his eyes, blinking away the wetness there. He let go of his breath, chest rising and falling so quickly, too quickly that he thought with the pain accompanying it he may just be having a premature heart attack. Or perhaps it was over due.

“Oh sweet thing, you need to loosen up.”

Louis stopped blinking, breathing too and pulled steadily backwards from the warmth he’d plummeted himself into. He tightened his fingers, flexed them around the material he’d balled up in his hands, the material from Edward’s t-shirt.

“Easy princess,” Edward’s breath, tinged with smoke, pooled into the small area between them, “easy.”

His voice sounded like velvet this close, eyes a pretty emerald and glowering.

Louis uncurled his fingers, pushing back from his chest but only to be yanked by his wrists, larger hands rough but warm snapping them up in a heartbeat and pulling him up and over the stick shift. Louis hissed at the momentary press that was far too hard on fresh wounds, callous skin rubbing against broken skin until Edward let go to wrap an arm around his back, other hauling his legs.

Edward made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat, running both hands down his flanks as Louis rearranged the rest for himself, wiggling his bum a little so his supple thighs spread nicely over the hard ones beneath him. He was aware of watchful eyes boring into his body, the hands that had settled comfortably on the flesh at his rounded hips squeezing at the softness there when he finally stopped moving.

There was nowhere to put his hands but on his chest. The only comfortable position for them to fall, everything else would be awkward.

“S’been a while.” Edward’s eyes pulled back up his body, thumbs slipping underneath the black cotton.

Louis shifted his hips again, Edward reclining a little in his seat. It didn’t take the smaller boy long to realise why, feeling the familiar swelling perfectly positioned against his taint. It took a few seconds to clamp down any whimper that was tickling his throat from the sensation.

“You can’t do this, Edward. Not anymore.”

Edward raised his eyebrows, thumbs still running circles on his hips, slow and building pressure with each rotation, “What’s this?”

“Doing this,” Louis’ hands fell by a fraction, “you scare me, y-you hurt me and expect me to believe you’re the lesser of two evils. Expect me to believe that Harry is capable of hurting his own Brother like that, for no reason.”

“I see. So you’re calling me a liar.”

Louis was thrown, wrong wording. _Wrong wording._

“N-no…” He shook his head, looking so innocent Edward had to grip his hips a little harder, “no.”

“Good. Because that would be quite naughty and I’d be quite offended at being branded a liar. Especially considering you’ve already scratched strike three.”

“I’m not calling you a liar.” Louis’ life wasn’t worth it. Besides, he didn’t think he was lying.

“Think I’m being quite lenient with you.”

Louis nodded. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on some dry skin as to keep the sound in from Edward’s hands pushing him down on his crotch, drawing involuntary movement in his own.

“I know, sorry, I'm not saying… I just think there’s more to this than what you’re letting on. I know you want to protect me, but, also I-,”

“-Do you know why he did this to me? These marks on my face.”

Louis was so absorbed in Edward, Edward’s hands doing terrible things to his softer regions and eyes arresting him to the spot that he missed the next car approaching in the distance, headlights peeking right over the horizon through the fog that was still hanging thick.

He shook his head.

“Because you spent an entire hour with me.”

Lost. Absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“That day you came round and we had a private word.” Those hands were no longer at his hips, now spanning over his thighs. Understood. Louis gulped. “He was driven slightly mad by the fact you’d spent your whole visit with me and barely said three words to him, thought I was stealing you from him.”

Louis fought so hard to push back the ‘you kind of are’ that weighed on his throat.

“So he hit me. He hit me again and again, made me cough up a little blood.”

“No…”

“Yes, and all because you spent time with me.” Edward nodded, ran his hands back up to cup his behind and thoroughly enjoyed the sharp inhale. “You understand why I insist you keep your distance.”

This can’t be right. This wasn’t the Harry he just left behind. The one who was coy and dimply at the press of pink lips against his own. The boy who was hesitant to touch, unaware of his own power, his own wonderful beauty and charm that pours into everything he does.

One of his hands were plucked from Edward’s chest, brought up to have a set of plump lips pushed into the back of it.

“Louis.” He ignored the buzz of his phone for the fourth time, he knew what it was, didn’t need to look.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Those kisses were so soft, a world apart from Edward. But Louis couldn’t take his eyes off of them. “He’s dangerous, he’s unpredictable and I don’t want you to be sucked in. My Brother is a bad person, Louis, such a bad person and if you feel anything for him it should be pity and fear.”

He does feel those things.

Did. _Did_ feel those things. He knew better now. Thought he did. Louis watched, eyes fluttering as long fingers splayed between his own, curled down between them and used that to pull him forward. Torso against torso. His head was measuring up to be a supernova mess. Destined to explode from all this information, all the back and forth and confusion and-

Louis was getting lost in that cologne, when headlights tore through the glass lighting up the interior so harshly they had to be on full beam. He recoiled, hands still in Edward’s and sat up right in his lap.

“What the-,” Edward was next, grunting as the car had come to a stop beside theirs and practically blinded them.

It took him three seconds to sit up and scoff at the registration.

“Oh, this is perfect…” A corrupt smile on his face was enough to make Louis’ little heart thrum.

“What’s perfect? Who is that? Edward. Edward-,” Louis’ eyes were having trouble adjusting to the bright yellow light slicing through his vision, but he was almost certain the door had just opened, “Edward they’re getting out.”

Edward took a second to inwardly skin himself at saying that out loud. The next second he was sitting up straight and pecking Louis’ cheek before assisting him back over to the safety of his side and before he had chance to reach for the handle the door was torn open and two longer than appropriate legs were revealed. A fist bunched the centre of Edward’s chest and he was hauled out of the vehicle.

A flash of red plaid and sense hit him harder than the car door slammed shut.

He snatched his phone and stuffed it inside his pocket, fingers scrambling for the handle in a panicked blur. It didn’t help when there was a loud thud against the side of the car, a body pressed against the back window.

When Louis finally swung the door open, the mugginess clogged his throat and he caught the tail end of a sentence over the roof.

“…the middle of the fucking road!”

Edward’s hands were raised in surrender, Harry’s scrunching up the material of his top and spitting profanities in his face.

“Harry,” Louis felt like he were floating around in one of his worst nightmares; every time he tried to speak, it came out as a whimper, when he tried to shout it was but a whisper. “Harry enough!”

“You forgot to take your pills today Brother?” Edward was almost laughing, “Again?”

Harry’s hands were quick. Where they were soft and unsure around Louis they were unforgiving and brutal on his sibling. He backhanded Edward so fast his neck nearly broke from the impact. “Don’t get smart with me you deceitful _cunt_.”

Louis’ heart _dropped_.

“Harry!” He rounded the rear end of the car and put himself between the two boys, quickly checking Edward’s face before turning his back to him. “Don't- don't.”

Harry’s chest was heaving, his lips shiny and wet from spit. He was sure he’d heard him wrong, didn’t respond just went to touch him, but Louis retracted his wrist the second Harry’s eyes slipped down.

“I’m warning you Harry, please, I respect you enough to give you the chance or else I- I’ll call the police.”

“Louis wh-,”

“- _please_.”

Harry stood hopeless. Left out amidst a whirlwind of searing rage and icy blue eyes that had never felt so painful to meet.

Sirens were closing in on them and Louis prayed it wasn’t the police, entirely aware that there were not only two cars parked negligently across both lanes but it was very clear there was a violent situation at hand with one out of the three sporting a bruised face and a bloodied lip.

“Louis please move.”

“No Harry, enough.”

“I don’t understand,” It was starting to rain. Louis’d sworn he saw tiny flecks on the windscreen earlier but now it was coming down properly, wet spots forming on Harry’s thin t-shirt, strands of his hair twitching as the downpour hardened, “what he said, I heard what he said how can you let me hear that and…” He just didn’t understand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Louis would be damned if he were to admit he did that on purpose, not with Edward’s track record. Not when Edward was standing at his side now, looking down at him for a moment, a gaze he dared not meet. “Heard what?”

“The phone!”

“Harry I think you should calm down.”

Harry’s face twisted into something venomous and dark, jaw tensing as his gaze shifted to Edward. “I think you should know when it’s favourable to speak and when it is absolutely not.”

“Look I don’t know what you think you heard b-,”

“-he threatened to hurt you. Louis why are you acting like this is all in my head?”

Edward tipped his chin up at the whaling sound down the road, making sure he was hearing it right before scoffing and stepping forward, shielding Louis almost to square up to his Brother. “Maybe because pretty much everything is contrived in that pathetic, fucked up head of yours.”

Fingers were gripping the bones at Edward’s wrist, silently pulling him back.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Of course, he pushed on, “it’s because you’re so wrapped up in your fairytale of being Louis’ knight in shining armour that you think everyone and anyone who holds any sort of affection towards him, any sign of interest in his desirous company that you see it as a threat to your ideal.”

The rain was hard. Strands of hair were sticking to faces, rain beating against squinted eyes, clothes clinging to torsos. But the hot, fresh tears rolling down Harry’s cheek were unmistakable.

“Shut up.” He shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just shut up.”

“Maybe, you’re just so selfish and delusional that you think it’s okay to paint this ridiculous picture to Louis and immerse him in your twisted reality.”

“ _Stop_!” Harry bellowed, tendons in his neck pulling.

Louis automatically grabbed Edward’s hand at the outburst. But none of them had any time to react to it as the sirens were right there now and to Louis’ dismay it was the exact authority he prayed it weren’t, instantly letting go and nudging Edward to act. React or act. Something, _anything_ that got him moving and not just staring.

Harry was unfazed, barely a momentary look of confusion as he glanced at the men stepping out of the two marked cars before swallowing and got to resuming his current heartache. Nothing was more important than Louis. Always Louis.

“Harry Styles.”

Edward frowned, Louis frowned and Harry swallowed, kept looking at the small boy.

“ _Harry Styles_ ,” The officer repeated himself, deep voice distorted slightly from the rain pelting down on them now, “Please step away from the vehicles.”

He only heard it the second time, just.

“Pardon? What, no. Sorry sir but-,” Harry turned and the officer instantly drew a gun from his holster, “wait, _sir_ -,”

Edward’s hand recaptured Louis’ this time, an urgency to it as he pulled him back to the rear end of his car and held him against his front, rubbing a a thumb over the back of his wrist. None of them even saw the other two men round in on Harry from the outside, both with guns poised and aimed at his torso. Not to kill, just disable if necessary.

Harry should raise his hands, all instincts kicking in to do that, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the barrel of the first gun.

Louis jumped and Edward pulled him closer, held him tighter as two officers took up Harry’s hands, swivelled him around and slammed him into his own car with so much force it was cruel. They were treating him as if he were most wanted, some kind of monster and Louis couldn’t help the visor of imagery that fell in front of this; an unwelcome flashback to the first arrest he witnessed two months ago.

“Harry Styles I am arresting you on suspicion of assault of Jasper Machallin, you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence-,”

Louis leant his back into Edward. The warmth was doing nothing against the cold rain nor the ice settling in his veins at the scene unravelling. It all playing out as if it were a movie and they were just hopeless observers.

He had to squeeze Edward’s hands, large and crushing his own a little painfully across his front but he welcomed the burn as it stopped him from bustling over to Harry, who was denying everything, every word, struggling against his restraints, manhandled by three men who only just managed to contain control.

“Who…” Louis’ voice got lost somewhere in the rain, but the figure towering over him from behind caught it.

“Sorry sweet?” Edward dipped his head, but not his eyes. Lips close to his ear but gaze still trained on his twin Brother desperately struggling, right up until they shut the door.

“Who is that?”

Louis blinked away the rain, eyelashes dripping, bones shivering when a reply came smooth and low in his ear.

“Jasper Machallin?” Even the sound of his tongue lapping at his lips before continuing was clear and filthy. “Ben’s new boyfriend.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Inclination towards drug abuse and suicide in this one. Please heed.**

Louis wasn’t aiming for the bin but he caught it anyway, paper ball bouncing off the rim and landing inside.

“Christ - _shot_ mate!” Liam’s chirpy tones ricocheted off the walls and landed, just like the paper ball, straight into his ear canals, “Blind too, since when did you have such good aim?”

Liam had stopped swizzling in his chair, fingers curled around the armrests and flicked his head back and forth between bin to friend a couple of times until he realised friend was categorically not in the same room. And probably hasn’t been since he got here and reached for the piccalilli instead of lemon curd to make a sandwich.

He sighed, stretched his fingers and tipped his head to the side, “I think I just wet myself from excitement.”

Nothing but the arm that was still raised mid-air post throw, flopping back onto the quilt he was splayed on came as a response. The small bandage he'd used to cover the burn from Edward's cigarette was there, Louis having made up a stupid excuse earlier as to what had happened and Liam accepting it for the sake of an argument.

His foot had started twitching a little, probably from being laid in the same position for too long, muscles relaxing.

Liam squinted, mouth twisting into a pensive pout.

“So Louis I saw a fox catch fire yesterday.”

“It got ran over shortly after, absolute blood bath.”

“Did you know Lucy’s pregnant?”

“I’m the father.”

“…We’re thinking about making Harry Styles the Godfather.”

Louis blinked, hoping that would clear the smog of far away thoughts and blinked again, realising Liam was the only person in the room asides from him and he should really start listening to what he’s saying. He swallowed and turned his head, blinking a final time. He looked rather cute, even Liam had to take a moment to observe, how his eyes were wide from the angle and titled slightly upwards, chestnut hair spayed a little recklessly around his head looking every bit a kitten caught mid mischief.

“What?”

“Have I ever said that I know you inside out? Better than you know yourself?” A frown was added to his peculiar cuteness and Liam sighed, “I think I have, but just incase: Louis Tomlinson you are alarmingly predictable and therefore to me, your best friend, your most trust worthy stooge - pretty much transparent and I am very much _bored_ of it.”

“Is this your attempt at trying to offend me?” The frown soon melted into the usual sharp icy glare, slicing through people’s egos in one quick swoop.

“Ah. There is light at the end of the tunnel.”

Louis huffed, rolling his eyes as he returned back to centre and rest his hands on his ribs. He flitted his eyes down to the window he were facing, “What the bloody hell were you rattling on about anyway?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The sound of leather crunching meant Liam must be leaning forward, Louis was too lazy to look.

“Tell y…” He yawned leisurely, eyes watering a little at the sides, “-pardon me. Tell you what?”

The leather crunched again. Obviously he wanted Louis to look at him. Obviously - and obviously because this was _Liam_ and Louis knew Liam just as much as he knew him - wanting to take up his concerned parent role, eyes pulled into a sufficiently worried yet borderline disappointed lilt, lips rolled in a patronisingly thin line.

“About Harry.”

Louis’ eyes flicked back up to the ceiling, he was acutely aware of the feeling of his ribs stuttering at his name.

“What about _Harry_ , Liam?” He turned his head back to face his adopted Father.

He sighed and Louis honest to God wanted to slap him.

“Louis.”

“Yes Liam.” He pulled himself up, swivelled around on the plushness beneath him so he could sit up and face him properly, “You know Payne is quite an appropriate surname for you and your insistent probing.”

Ruffled. Ruffled is what he was. Tired too, inexplicably exhausted from not getting even nearly enough sleep in the past four days, that he just couldn’t be bothered with this interrogation and wondered why he even came round to this idiot’s in the first place.

“Louis everybody is talking about it, his arrest.”

Oh yes. That’s why. Distraction.

“Right. So?”

Liam looked like he were giving Louis an opportunity to expand, respond to what he was being told. Maybe offering him the chance to explain and vomit every fucking thing he’s been painfully restraining for the past - what felt like two years - two months or so before he had to push him in the way he always has; shovel past all the bullshit to get to the truth.

“So,” Louis’ teeth gritted at the tone, looking at the way his hands moved as he spoke instead, “you obviously knew about this before so why didn’t you tell me?”

“What makes you think I knew?” He wasn’t convincing anymore. Apparently, with detector Payne-in-everyone’s-ass over here he never has been. “It’s not like-,”

“-no don’t start mate, don’t. I know you’ve been getting close to him, you don’t go to coffee with someone like Harry Styles and shrug it off as a casual thing.” He stared that soul stripping stare that made Louis want to either sigh and spit back some harsh wit or curl up and rock in a corner, “Especially considering you’ve never been acquaintances until now. Especially considering what happened at your party. Especially, considering how you’ve been distancing yourself from us ever since.”

Okay. “Us?” Louis scoffed, “Us? Liam you’re not my fucking guardian-,”

“-I don’t give a shit, I don’t. You’ve really pissed me off.”

If Liam wanted to open fire then well, _well_. Louis had never been one to lay down and take it, not from Liam, not from anyone. Louis swung his thighs over the end of the bed, wincing at the pain still lingering very slightly.

“Right well I best be off then.”

“Louis-,”

“-Not in the mood. You have no idea what you’re talking about, you think you do but you don’t and I’m tired, okay? I’m tired and I just want to go home, go to sleep and eat,” Louis' words were bouncing off his actions, being slowly walked back from his blustering retreat to the door by a broader Liam, “and I’m just not in the mood so please, unhand me and let me... let me leave.”

Louis was flummoxed.

The usual fire in his belly had been watered down to a spark that Liam was managing to rouse by the tiniest fleck- but not even enough to get him to push back on the hands gripping his biceps manoeuvring him back to the bed, parking his bum on the edge with a gentle huff.

“Tell me.”

Louis closed his eyes, there was so many things to tell it was nauseating. Where the fuck does one begin.

“Just tell me,” There he was again, Louis sighed, “and help me understand then. What’s going on Lou?”

And oh _God_ , did he have to use that name? Where there really any terms of endearment that aren’t going to remind him of liquid green eyes and enigmatic tattoos and apple scented curly hair and all these ridiculous things that made his heart fall through his arse with too many emotions and-

“ _Louis?_ ” Liam was cradling him because apparently he’d zoned off into his world of self pity and denial so well that he’d managed to start crying without even realising it, “Oh man, what the fuck is going on with you?”

He didn’t have the energy. The will power nor general resolve to begin to explain the whats, the hows and never mind the whys. Harry was still very much on his mind and it hurt. It was their Birthday one week ago. One whole week since he’d seen him, one week since the arrest and one week since that hole inside of him had been torn back open with his departure.

Liam had begun shushing him, because apparently Louis didn't have the will to control his violent sobs either.

The thing was, he couldn’t shift the idea that this wasn’t right. Something must be wrong because this was too cruel.

But the reality of one week ago, the arrest, the details of what he’s learnt since and what Edward was going to go find out from him at the ward today - the truth was cold and brutal in it’s facing and there was no escaping it. Harry had hurt someone. Harry had physically nearly killed someone again, because of him. All because of the precarious nature of affection he held for him, the danger that lay behind the sweet words and the ability behind the muscle - the same ability Edward had _warned_ him about over and over - that when triggered, explodes.

“You got close to him didn’t you?”

Liam’s hand was rubbing soft circles on his back. The warmth from his palm soothing up and over his aching muscles as he pulled him under his chin a little more.

He pressed his eyelids together which only wrung out another tear.

He couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until everything was settled and he had all the information Edward was getting today. Not until he gets Harry’s side of the story. Not until he could finally come to terms with the fact he’s going to have to turn his back on one if not both of these boys.

The thought alone gets another stomach dropping, heart wrenching sob.

He whines quietly and curls into his friend, face red and blotchy, only mildly aware he was getting the neck of his shirt damp from his weeping.

“Okay, okay - _shhh_. It’s alright, shh,” He cooed some more, pulling him impossibly close for he felt absolutely hopeless. “We don’t have to talk right now, just take your time yeah? Just take your time.”

Louis nodded, a second or five later when he stopped sniffing long enough to be sure he wouldn’t dribble.

They stayed like this for a while, Louis’ mind winding back on where he went wrong, what he could’ve done better or differently. Liam remained ignorant but supportive and there and that’s all he could ask for, that’s all Louis needed as the ache in his chest transcended into his head as he thought about rain. Rain and sirens and eyes that should never look so sad, too beautiful to waste a breath on the self hatred that consumes them.

His phone lit up an unknown amount of minutes later and Louis’ eyes blink rapidly, frowning at how dry they’d gotten before sniffing and pulling his head back from the crook of Liam’s neck to peer at the message.

Liam was spluttering from getting a mild mouthful of fluffy hair as Louis’ chest drew taught. 

_Edward.S: I think I’ve lost my Brother._

 

 

*

 

_-Twenty minutes earlier-_

 

Edward’s croaked laughter rung through the hallways and Harry thought the worst had already been and gone. But with the heavy footsteps closing in on his door he soon realised he’d been mistaken. He sighed, pushed out through his nose, tense and ready for the imminent blow of his twin.

His name was called through the door, a key turning in the lock.

He didn’t reply, just lowered the book he were reading to his lap and peered over the rim of his glasses at his door.

Four seconds later and the bolt was unhinged, there was a short exchange of hushed voices and it pushed open, too slow for it to be Edward doing the opening.

“What’re you doing here?”

Edward twirled around, looking a little playful as he mocked a ballerina and toed the door close, bringing up a finger to his puckered mouth to shush him. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled up carelessly over a gun powder grey t-shirt, Harry recognised it as one of his own.

It'd been three days since he'd been admitted to the ward again, the decision a joint one that had Harry's health at the heart of their motivation. Which was ironic as he's managed to feel the worst he's felt in a long time. Drugged and mildly docile for three days straight. He was very not in the mood for games. He stared, following his Brother's childish display with an expression void of emotion.

“Oh Brother of mine, how could you commit a sin so fine?” Edward taunted him, huffing out a giggle at the end as he ran two fingers along the desk at the other wall, the corners of it had been rounded off, rid of all sharp edges and bolted with six inch screws to the brick. The chair was fixed in an identical fashion.

Edward smiled to himself, facing away from his Brother when his fingers reached the edge. He sniffed and turned around, eyes just as lifeless as his voice.

“You jacked off today?”

Harry groaned, shook his head and looked away with the smallest of worry lines forming between his brows.

“Well?”

“Fuck off.”

The elder was delighted, crossed his arms and leant against the desk. “Was it good?”

“Edward.”

“Did you cum hard?”

Removing his glasses he let them hang between his forefinger and thumb for a second, mind utterly blank and miserable and too _high_ to feel anything but miserable and blank. Even the words of the book he were reading - nothing too interesting, it wasn’t allowed for potential trigger reasons - swept up and over his head, unable to really get into the story at all.

He sighed, placed them on top of the covers, folded the page over and dropped it next to them.

“What do you want Edward?”

A tongue ran across his front teeth, slow. His eyes were calculating and unmoving of his half naked Brother, “I want to know if you touched yourself.”

Harry stared at him for a moment longer until he sufficed he really wasn’t going to to just sit here and take his immature jibes. He needed to pee. He pinched the bridge of his nose before throwing the cover back to come to a stand, swinging two long legs over the side of the thin mattress only to be shoved back onto it, wrists pinned at the side of his face and a smirking Edward looming over him.

“Oh,” He looked at the many blood vessels visible in Harry’s eyes, and tutted, “oh dear. You’re probably too knackered to even think about that sort of stuff though right? Far too dosed up on medication to put a hand to anything.”

“Please get off me.”

Edward laughed, tightened his hold. “Accept maybe Jasper’s throat.”

Harry squirmed, making a sound that he hoped would tell Edward to back off and ultimately fuck off. “Edward, Edward get- _get off_!”

Shoving at his Brother’s wandering hands he pushed him away entirely, watching as he staggered backwards not at all concerned whether he fell over and cracked his skull on the floor. Kind of hoped he would. He could pee in peace and resume his reading at least.

“You can’t believe that was _actuall_ -,”

Harry would let Edward cut him off only once before snapping.

“Just… tell me, answer me. Just one thing.” Edward was never cryptic, utterly so un-poetic about everything that whenever he even leans towards being elusive about something Harry’s nerves are torched, “Did you think you were going to win?”

“Win, Brother?”

Edward held out two inked arms, “Have our nineteen years taught you nothing?”

Harry didn’t understand, he felt like he should though and that’s why he braced himself, physically and mentally as much as he could not liking how he was clearly at an ignorant disadvantage.

“I always get what I want. Whatever you do, I do it better. Whatever you wish for,” Edward made a grabbing motion, “I snatch, right from underneath your nose.”

The worry line only increased as Edward started walking forward.

“I… what’s going on? What have you done?”

Edward. Looked _shocked_.

“Me? What have I done? Picked up the fucking pieces you’ve left behind yet again. You make it too easy.”

Harry’s bum bumped the wall and his heart felt like it was getting heavier, he couldn’t peel his eyes away.

“Why? Because you don’t deserve it Harry. You were never meant to be, you’ve heard the doctors say so themselves - you went undetected, you were a mistake, unplanned and quite frankly unwanted. Your very existence is wrong no wonder you’re so _fucked_ up,” He shoved two heavy hands against his chest, Harry doing nothing to stop him, “All you’ve done is caused the family trouble, wanting more than what’s reasonable, creating paranoid theories that we have to pay for when you lash out, always fucking hurting people, always leaving chaos in your wake but wait, what about yourself Harry? Hm? Why can’t you hurt yourself just as much as you hurt everyone else? Why do you never do a thorough job on yourself? You’re a firm believer in justice after all are you not?”

Edward could tear open his chest and rip his heart right out, it would probably make no difference right now. He shook his head on a small sound, lip beginning to quiver, something he knows Edward _hates_ but he can’t stop.

“You don’t,” He swallowed a sob as his eyes heated up, doesn’t want to anger him further, “you don’t mean that.”

“Surely justice is served only when wrongs are righted? How do you right all your wrongs Harry? There’s only so many I can do for you, only so many things I can take from you that it grows boring. Started off with toys when we were infants, then what friends you managed to pull into your circle, I turned those against you and now, ever since the tender age of 13 you get yourself an adorable crush on a pretty young thing you know wouldn’t look twice at you. And look… now I have him. Because there’s no way he would want to associate with a reckless _abuser_ -,”

“ _No!_ ” Harry’s voice was strong, roaring above and somewhere down the corridor, it was heard, “No you’re wrong, you can’t- you cannot believe that was me, surely, you have to tell him Edward please, tell him it wasn’t me you know it wasn’t me-,”

“-you’re so pathetic.”

Harry had his hands balled in Edward’s shirt, for how long he doesn’t recall, “… _no_ , no Edward listen to me, stop-,”

“- Tell me what’s left Harry. Look at you. You’re a pathological liar, a violent sociopath and above all a disappointment. Mum and Dad are so fed up. Don’t you see what you’ve done to them? What you’re still doing to them?”

Edward was nothing more than a cruel blur. A serving of the reality that was closing in on him with every word.

“You need to take responsibility and right the biggest wrong of all.”

Harry’s knees hurt as they collided with a hard coldness, he was on the ground. His fingers were still scrunched up, gripping desperately, face leaning into the material of Edward’s jeans causing a wet smudge from his tears.

Edward stood like that, looking down at the wreck he's reduced his younger sibling to within minutes. Just the mention of Louis' name. The grief he's caused his family. Love is a dangerous thing. 

He covered the hands balling up his t-shirt with his own, identical, long fingers spanning over the bruised knuckles.

“There’s nothing left Harry. No believes you anymore. No one _cares_ because, when we do, we only get hurt.” He crouched down so he were eye level with his twin, who was nothing but tears and silent realisation, his words hitting home far too hard for the drugs to buffer. “I love you, but this can't go on. It's time. I think you know what you need to do.”

He uncoiled one of Harry’s clammy fists and pushed a small plastic bag into it, refolding his shaky fingers around the white pills.

Edward pressed a kiss to his temple, “Goodbye Brother.”


	18. Chapter 18

Hospital corridors are all very much the same. Stuffy and plain, with a constant undercurrent of bleach. Even the staff passing by give off a whiff of disinfectant, so much so that Edward has to clear his throat a few times into a curled fist. Even the walls were flowing, all a mix match of magnolia and white one minute only for them to merge into powder blue the next.

Passing through the different wards however, there was a notable atmosphere shift from one to the other. The people that were populating the waiting areas weren’t the biggest tell tale on the outside, but it was the air they held that Edward could decipher from. While the vibes were tight and snappy on the accident and emergency, pushing through the door to the ophthalmology department was deathly quiet. Quietly passing through Neurology people kept their eyes down, secluding themselves to either their papers or small circles.

“Afternoon,” Edward nodded, slowed his walk as he approached the desk, doc martins scuffing as he stopped, “Jasper Machallin?”

“Name…” The girl behind the desk replied, barely throwing Edward a glance as she tapped something fast into her keyboard with a poorly concealed sigh.

Edward stared at her, arms folding across the desk as he leant into it, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Lazily, she turned her head, eyes still stuck to whatever it was on the screen for a moment before they joined and she nearly coughed up the salvia she just swallowed, plucking her glasses from her face.

“ _Edw-_ ,”

Edward’s face glowered something grim that got her tongue to falter before she managed to finish his name.

“God, okay,” She hesitated, not sure where to look - Edward or the screen or to check for the third time if anyone was watching, “okay, erm, let me just…”

Edward was growing bored and quite irritated at how it’d taken this long already, green eyes that were more black with heightened senses flicking down at the nervous shake her slender fingers had adopted as they frantically got to work on the keyboard again.

He licked his lips, rocked a little into his folded arms as he leant forward to read the screen for himself.

“R-room, he’s in room 5,” Pointing her finger to the general space over Edward’s shoulders she gulped, meeting his eyes for a brief moment with all intent of looking away again but just, couldn’t, “down the corridor, that first corridor on the right.”

Edward was stagnant, that smile pulled onto his features remaining. He dragged his assault of a gaze downwards, settling around her supple breasts for a second or two longer that got her cheeks heating radically as she readjusted the tag around her neck.

Finally, he pushed away from the desk and tapped two fingertips on the wood, “Good girl.”

He turned on his heels, absolutely uninterested in employing his energy in her acquaintance for a second longer and took off to the first corridor.

He spied a bin just before the turn and leant over it to spit his chewing gum before running a hand through thick hair, shoulders square and tense, legs fast and fluid and presence a hook to all that passed him.

The door was silent and heavy as he entered without knocking, glancing through the blinds at the bay window before pushing on the handle.

Jasper was laid up in the bed, half his face utterly unrecognisable from the assault that had taken place. There was considerbale stitching to his orbital bone and neck, the heaviest of the bruising to his temple, inner eye sockets and lower jaw. He was awake, head turned to the tv flickering in the corner until he turned his head and a small noise gargled at the back of his throat.

“Hey man, h-,” Edward stopped, pouted a little as he saw Jasper instantly struggle for the cable hanging low from the side of his bed, fingers that were grazed and trembling as they scrambled for the little red panic button.

Perfect.

Brilliant.

“Jasper, wait,” He was at the bedside in a beat, promptly retrieving the button up and way from his desperate fingers, “it’s me, Edward. The twin.”

“ _B-but-_ ,”

Edward shook his head, pulled up the sleeves to his long black top, “See? Covered.”

He motioned to the tattoos which decorated his skin, holding out his forearms and motioning to the whisper of artwork that snaked out above his neck line onto the nape. “I’m the one whose been dipped in ink.”

The relief that washed over the boy was visible, Edward witnessing the steadying of his chest, the beeping from the heart rate monitor’s incessant noise levelling out only by a snip but still.

“ _Shit_ ,” His voice was ruined, like nails on a chalkboard in it’s fluency, “-shit, sorry just- y-you guys really are, identical.”

Edward kept back all sarcastic commentary, nodded with a sympathetic smile instead, “We get that a lot.”

Discarding the button, he stepped forward a little closer, tongue running along the roof of his mouth as he silently scoped the extent of the injuries, swallowing when he passed over the obvious disfigurement of his facial construct that was impairing his speech and landed on the main attraction; the neat, singular slice to his neck.

“He’s fucking insane,” The boy spoke, seemingly ripping Edward right out of his little daydream, “a monster.”

There was a niggle in his chest, Edward ignoring it for the greater good.

“His mental state is regrettable I agree.” His voice was a hum as he took to surveying the bruising once more, lifting his hands to inspect it physically to which the boy instinctively tried to pull away. 

“Why are _y_ -,” Jasper was shushed by a finger from the same hand against his lips, something that had him frowning but wincing at how it was still painful to move those muscles in his face.

“You should rest your voice. I’m sure you've done enough screaming already.”

Edward wasn’t going to hang around for long, his plan wasn’t to come here and taunt the injured, beat someone whilst they’re already down. He just wanted to make sure, ensure he was covered from all angles. Coming this far and successfully carrying out a plan came with a unique sort of satisfaction when given the chance to sit back and let it unravel and mature in it’s own right, but before Edward could truly submerse himself into that luxury he had to tie up all loose ends.

“Does this hurt?”

The strangled noise Jasper squeezed out when the gash on his neck had pressure applied by two or three fingers answered him sufficiently.

Edward snorted out a laugh, “Yeah, thought it would.”

Jasper’s chest was troubled. Edward stood back up fully again, leaning back a little further to crack the ache low in his spine.

“You remember everything about the attack?”

Jasper was side-eyeing him, not turning his head fully round or else he’d catch the incision and the pain that came with applying such pressure really wasn’t worth it. He nodded, Edward licking his lips as he watched Jasper do the same, swallowing.

“Hm, you know why he did it?”

He shook his head, fingers scrunching up the thin cable knit throw atop the other layers.

"Didn't think so." Edward nodded, taking in one last swoop of the length of his helpless body. "Good."

If he could, Jasper would call for help.

“Well. Just wanted to pop by and,” _test your reaction_ , “see how you were doing.” He took a step back, tilted his head to the side and almost looked like he were about to smile, but didn’t. “I would apologise on behalf of Harry but, it’s meaningless. What’s done is done. He will be receiving his punishment any day now. If nothing else take comfort in that.”

He couldn’t express it, not well, not nearly as efficiently as he would like but Jasper did not like Edward. Pushing aside the fact his twin was the reason behind he was immobile in a hospital bed, looking forward to a couple months of physiotherapy to recover. There was something equally as taunting about this one. Something quieter, more glaringly familiar but not. And he wanted him to leave. Now.

“You’re quite pretty, aren’t you?” Edward was still looking at him like that, eyes such an alarming, addictive shade of green managing to look so empty, “it’s a shame this had to happen.”

Jasper’s breath caught and he went to reply, his voice sparking like a light in the depths of his throat, but was cut off immediately by Edward’s small hum, “You make a speedy recovery Jasper.”

And he was left, with not a single word after. Left with the image of broad shoulders, long legs and those eyes. The same phrase in his coarse tone going round and round in his head, playing with him, _imploring_ him to listen:

_It’s a shame this had to happen._

_It’s a shame this had to happen._

_…had to happen._

 

 

*

 

 

“But they - where are you going?”

Louis continued stirring the smooth, foaming mixture in the mug as his attention was stolen elsewhere, more specifically to a disappearing Edward at the other side of the kitchen. He got an apology and a waggle of his mobile phone, excusing himself quickly.

He thought nothing of it, sighing and tapping the residue of the milky mixture off the rim, disposing the spoon in the basin with a dull clang.

Today had been an odd one. The first half of it had him high up on emotions, rolling out of bed from another sleepless night to have to paint on a face of brave come happy delusion to his dearest friend. Only for that facade to be tapped and peeled away an hour into it, diving him head first into an unexpected but fated tearful explosion. And now, Louis sighed, something he’d being doing successively for the past four days as he hooked fingers through two mugs, one for him, one for Edward. Now he has Edward. After that evasive text his panic chord was yanked and he had to leave Liam, which only added to his guilt, promising him he’d call him later.

Louis padded barefoot through the hall, the underfloor heating warming his bare skin as he took a turn into the first living room, the one containing his most favoured sofa with the cushions that, when he curled himself really really small ball, were bigger than him.

He didn’t want to go to the Styles’ home. Too much history, too many reminders. Definitely didn’t want to go public either, it was enough effort to keep from breaking down at the very mention of his name, so throw in the risk of sitting next to someone who just happens to maybe wear the same cologne as him or own a similar watch or has a nautical tattoo or clothing or dimples or curly brown hair-

“ _Edward oh my-_ ,” Louis was happy he’d put his mug down, or else he’d be suffering from burns. “For eight foot something you move silently. Everything okay?”

Edward surveyed the scene before him, slinking into the room as graciously as one could with the gangly limbs and brawn that was so kindly referred to. He smirked at Louis, tucking himself into he plushness of a sofa that if it were personified would be overcompensating for something, the cushions far too large to be practical.

“Of course.” He didn’t hesitate when taking up the space right beside Louis in the corner, falling down with a heavy thump he slapped his palms atop his knees. “Comfortable sweetheart?”

Louis’d taken up his cup, loosely tipping his chin to Edward’s to which he did the same and curled his fingers around the porcelain, eyes fluttering a little as he took a sip.

“Yeah but,” He licked his lips, blowing a hole in the steam, “I’m cold.”

Edward blew the froth at the top and to be polite, took a large gulp ignoring the blatant look of surprise from his company who was just utterly perplexed at how he hadn’t spat it straight back out from a seared tongue. He raised his eyebrows, placing the cup back on the coaster, lining it up with the water mark there from previous use.

“Well that simply won’t do,” He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, “come here.”

Louis looked like he were considering it for a moment. Probably the brief history of physical contact with Edward Styles flashing through his mind and deducting what risk he would be putting himself at before willingly handing himself over. Which, was understandable. And expected. Edward waiting patiently until he saw the little toes uncurl from their hesitation, that delightful posterior shuffling from the safety of the corner and the boy this whole mess was over nuzzling himself into his side, feeling a part of himself click back into place.

Fingers weaved lightly through the wispy hair at the side of his face, fanning out onto his cheekbones before pulling back through the thickness further up. Louis felt like a pampered pet, all but purring as he allowed the gentle pull.

“You know… it’s not right, this.”

Edward must’ve been pressing kisses into the top of his head too as that’s where his lips started moving, “What’s this?”

“Your Brother is the one that’s been arrested, he’s- you know it’s _your_ family and yet it feels like you’re the one who’s comforting me.”

“I’ve grown up by Harry’s side. I’m used to it and although it doesn’t get easier,” He definitely pressed a kiss into his forehead then, warm breath coming down on his face for a short moment, “you just, develop certain coping mechanisms. Whereas you have yet to endure anything quite so cruel, you've been the victim throughout all of this."

Louis didn't want to explore how much truth lay behind that. He shook his head and pushed on,

“But, he’s _hurt_ someone.” Louis’ voice reeked of innocence, and half of Edward, the half that was a shade darker than the rest found it downright erotic.

He stared ahead to the empty fireplace, waited for what didn’t need to be said to gently sink in, dropping his hand to take to swirling fingers on the soft cotton of Louis’ hoodie that was entirely too big for him. And it didn’t take long, Louis feeling a little silly and rushing to compensate for his poor choice of words.

“Not that- I know he’s hurt people,” It was agony to not let his hands run down the torso he were practically using as a mattress, the assaults he know have taken place there, to solidify his point, “what I mean is this is someone else, someone who… who isn’t-,”

“-who isn’t me.”

Edward still stared ahead.

Louis felt like he were about to cross a line and clamped his jaw shut so he couldn’t.

“This is the fourth time,” He decided to put the nervous wreck out of his misery, rolling his head to look down at him with glittering eyes, “he’s attacked someone and the third time he’s been arrested.”

“Third? Edward the _third_ time? Why haven’t you told me-,”

“-why should I?”

Maybe because you’ve made an unofficial vow to protect me from the uncontainable wrath of the unhinged tendencies which belong to your delusional Brother and that’s the kind of information you tend to share.

Louis closed his mouth again, the snap of his teeth amusing Edward for some bizarre reason.

“He’s dangerous. You knew enough to deduct that.”

“But the others? Did he confess?”

Edward repositioned, duly knocking Louis’ legs as he shifted his hips, “Sorry sweet?”

“He out right denied responsibility at his arrest, you said he denied it today too.”

“Right,” Edward nodded, “He usually accepts full responsibility yes, his psychotic episodes tend to cause him to black out and most of what he does remains unrecalled but on the whole, he’ll know he’s done something.”

Louis looked down at his drink. He chewed the inside of his cheek, scratching his nails over the dull pot, “I can’t believe he threatened suicide if you didn’t take the blame.”

“He’s tried it twice before.”

“ _What?_ ”

“To kill himself, I mean.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah I know, Mrs Bundin asked him if he tried t…” Louis’ speech muted, his lips ghosting the beginnings of words he knew better than to sound, heart dropping a little as he nervously looked up through his lashes.

Despite the strong set to his jaw and his nostrils flaring probably from steadying his inner strife, Edward didn’t say anything. Didn’t appear to be put off by the mention of his counselling session and the sore association it held.

“Yeah. Been hospitalised twice.”

And still, Louis is lost to the rhythm of his heart. The monologue it’s producing, constantly evolving as he learns new information, listening to how the boy he was almost sure he was readying to let himself fall for, fall into wholly and unreservedly, had felt a pain so strong he thought the only escape was to end his own life.

He was safe in the institution though. All precautions would be taken to assure there would be no third attempt. And even though his heart didn’t stop swelling in his chest, he dropped the matter straight away, secure with that thought for now. They go on to discuss that party Lucy brought up, that her brother is hosting, the one she said Ben would be attending. In light of recent events Edward suspects it would be foolish for him to go, doubts he may even turn up. But Louis is caught between really, _really_ not being in the mood for socialising even without the risk of Ben being present - would rather pour the remains of his still blindingly hot coffee over his entire face - and desperately wanting to see his friends. Probably out of guilt more than anything, having declined all other offers thus far.

“If Ben is there, then so be it. I can’t show him he’s won.”

Louis pouted, felt a tad out of place saying that considering his boyfriend is currently laid up in a hospital bed. He pulled back from putting his mug down and thought about rephrasing when a gruff voice beat him to it.

“I think, he may be a little less inclined to care now sweet.” Edward scoffed, riding the same wave of thought Louis was.

Louis hummed, watching the hand travelling up his thigh and settling at his hips on a small squeeze.

He sucked in a small breath from the cold fingertips sneaking under his flimsy t-shirt, looking at Edward with parted lips and a distracted mind. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what he wanted to do.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“The party, we’ll go.”

Edward raised an eyebrow at the inclusiveness of it. “Since when was I invited?”

“Since when have you _needed_ an invitation?”

His smirk grew wide and toothy, perfect teeth and deep dimples painting his face a god awful handsome that Louis ducked his head to keep from staring, from getting carried away with the ebb of it all.

“You know you’ll be there whether you’re welcome or not.”

“Oh?” Louis should be unsettled, nervous perhaps, at how easy it is for him to be manoeuvred like he was then - Edward pulling him forward so they were in the favourable position of straddling once more, “Why’s that princess?”

Reality was he was growing used to being manhandled now.

He tried not to stare too much, Edward turning over his palm and placing the softest kiss to the healing burn there.

"Because...," He's learnt to accept that he has no say in the matter, especially around Edward and his possessive grip and unwavering eyes, “because I’m there and- _oh_ ,” Louis’ voice broke off into something sweet and clipped, mouth hung open when lips covered the underside of his jaw as hot breath dampened the area they were trailing sloppy kisses along.

The hum against his neck did things. Things Louis bit his lip to keep from showing, hips betraying him by nature and grinding a fraction where they lay earning another squeeze to his rounded hips.

Louis hadn’t realised he’d melted into the touch. The mouth, the hands, all a dizzying distraction to the lull of the boy beneath him, the thump in his chest and the throb in his groin that he hated himself for. It was purely physical. His body wanted it, but when he realised those lips were slowly closing in on his own, seeking an intimacy that he wasn’t allowed his mind snapped wide open. Not as easy as his body to seduce.

The buzz of his phone cut it off for him and Louis could’ve sung from relief. Eyes popping open, he twisted in his position, ignoring the palpable hardness beneath his bottom to grab his mobile.

He was distracted with his screen when Edward seized his wrist, pulling it down.

“My sweet pea, you got a tattoo?”

Louis did everything to avoid answering that question but it was too late to fool him. His eyes flashed, grew a bit too wide as he dumbly stared at the stencil on his inner forearm, a bony thumb swiping over it.

“J-just a stencil,” He gulped, looked back to his phone and to Edward who of course, was already looking straight back, “trying it out, you know.”

“But you hate tattoos.”

He did. He _did_ hate them.

“Kind of, sort of warmed to the idea of them, um, recently,” Louis tried to be as casual as possible about retrieving his arm from the grip that was suspiciously light, weaving his slim wrist out of Edward’s loose fingers, “I need to make a quick call.”

Silence swept through the air, not even a struggle was put up by the elder as the slight temptation removed himself from his lap, taking the delightful pressure on his cock with him.

"I'll be two minutes." Louis didn't look back as he exited the room. Head low and fingers tapping, as he slipped out of sight and down the hall. 

When he felt like he were deep enough in the house to be safe, he dialled the number and was mid conversation, voice straining from whispering when his heart leapt. Even having two perfectly well coordinated feet didn’t mean he was out of the dark when it came to tripping. Over absolutely nothing. In a straight line.

Which is exactly what Louis did, only just holding back a curse under a strained breath as he recovered, flapping his hands about to catch his phone before it fell to the floor.

“Sorry- um, I missed that. What did he say?”

He’d kept her number since everything came to light that day, just in case. In case of _what_ was a bottomless statement of possibilities however. He just knew it would be useful one day sooner or later and besides, it really doesn’t hurt to have a professional on the end of a line who is from outside the circle; someone familiar but objective.

“So, you could get me in?”

Worrying his lower lip between his fingers, Louis tip toes through the doorway, pulling the door close silently as he pads into the piano room. A subconscious yet wise choice as his Dad had had the room soundproofed for his practise, therefor cutting off any prying ears from the conversation.

“I know, it’s not going to be like that I will be no longer than five minutes that’s all I need…. yeah,” Louis jogs his knee, parking his bum on the stool, “- five minutes is all I’m asking.”

Drawing a little of himself out of the conversation he halted the jogging, the action making him think of Harry and how he’s seen him do this way too many times. He swallows, closes his eyes at what he’s being told from the other end, sighing silently to keep polite and standing back up.

“Understood, wholly understood Mrs Bundin but I promise you I will do nothing, say nothing that will trigger him I just want five minutes. Plus, after- _no_ , no I won’t…”

He turned on the spot, propped a hand on his hip.

“He doesn’t know, no.”

The hand dropped and he turned back towards the piano. He held a breath, feeling a flicker of light breaking through the mesh.

“…Yes.”

He’s nodding.

“Yes absolutely.”

He sighed audibly then, hanging his head back but snapping it forward again when he heard the door open and ringed fingers curl around the frame.

“Thank you so much, I have to- ,”

He stared at the boy who was blocking the doorway, one arm stretched up to lean, the other on the handle.

“Uh sorry yes, yeah I will you have my word… yes, I promise.” Louis swung back around, closing his eyes and trying to rid the imprint of dark eyes and lean muscle, “Okay I have to go, duties call. Thank you, yeah… goodbye.”

 

 

*

 

_-Following day-_

 

The panic began as a uncomfortable tightening of the chest, almost as if the muscles weren’t willing to let another breath in, working against what they were supposed to do, what nature intended. The breath that does come is shallow, it’s sharp and painful as the sting of his lungs work against the narrowing of his windpipe and the last threads of will left in his soul to live. His own body is becoming separate to his mind like it’s accepted the fate that’s been set and has grown tired of urging him to _just do it already_ therefore taking the choice right out of his hands. His mind becomes static, thoughts clashing and fizzling into nothingness until all that’s left are all the fountain of regrets and what if’s that haunted his miserable existence.

That was half an hour ago, and Harry now finds himself coming to from somewhere he can’t quite remember, limbs not complying with his slowly warming consciousness.

_Flex your fingers._

He had to move. His eyes were glazed, blank and lifeless staring at the smooth plastered wall.

_Just move your fingers._

He remembers water.

_There’s cloth, soft… touch it._

He was soaking, drenched. Not drowning.

_Snap it._

Why did he want to burn?

_Snap out of it._

Why or what were he conflicting so hard, what was he-

“Harry?”

His limbs twitched, eye lids pulling slowly together, feeling like bits of gravel were stuck behind them. He blinks past the dryness to look down at the material he’d been reaching for, just a top. A white t-shirt thrown next to him on the floor.

He was getting dressed.

“Harry, honey, what’re doing down there?”

And the shower was the water.

He’d been taking a supervised shower, eyes watching his every move, nothing about it perverse or intrusive, he’d grown numb to his personal space being anything but his own recently. If he put up a fight about it it would only tally up negative points against him, convince them of his deterioration.

A nurse, he doesn’t look up to identify her, doesn’t really care, is coming closer, bending now and she’s reaching for the t-shirt herself.

“I want,” His voice surprises him, he doesn’t recognise it, “just want to get dressed.”

He followed the movement of his clothing, the nurse balling it up for him to lift his arms into easily, “Come on then, in you go…”

And he did. Like a child.

The thing about mental illness is nobody will understand it unless they get it. Much like any disease. They can try to sympathise, empathise but not really comprehend it. If someone was to imagine the worst nightmare, really take a moment to recall it and the fear and anxiety that came with it. Then, the relief. The exhale of a breath, the steadying rhythm of your heart when you realise it’s over and it wasn’t real, if they familiarised themselves with the feeling everyone has experienced at least once in their life but imagined instead that there is no end, that the nightmare is real, no waking up from it because you’re already awake. The nightmare is your reality. And the screams are just as silent sometimes. Maybe then Harry would bother talking much more openly like Mrs. Bundin urges him to.

“… he wasn’t breathing?”

“He was breathing, but unresponsive. Found him there on the floor….”

There were two females now, voices hushed but gentle. No harm.

Harry closed his eyes, swallowing thickly.

“… you think he blacked out again?”

Yeah, that’s the thing about not being able to escape your own subconscious, how it bleeds into your conscious processing. All those bizarre ideas that at the time of dreaming, make so much sense start to make sense when you’re wide awake and lucid.

“I don’t know. He was pretty out of it, he was taken for a shower then left to get changed and rest.”

“And that was it, no more contact?

“That was it.”

“Hm.”

They were addressing him now and he thought best to open his eyes again. Soft palms guiding him up, standing up properly and slowly so his head didn’t spin from any sudden movements.

He was a whole head taller than the two nurses, but neither were put off by his stature, more concerned by his docility.

“You know where you’re going baby?”

Harry let them walk him over to the bed, spying the loose sweatpants laid on there for him, toggles removed. He pulled them on, hopping from one foot to the other and answered her no, no he doesn’t know where he’s going. Doesn’t remember how he got here. There. On the floor. Just remembers the door locking and his heart racing.

“You have a visitor, they’re waiting in the lobby.” Her voice was so nice, so, so nice and Harry wanted to lean into it, wherever she was. “That’s it, perfect. Brushed your teeth?”

Brows trying to stitch together, hand shooting out to the wall to steady his wavering form he wondered why. Why was this so important. He knew he’d been told. His stupid mind. His stupid, ugly, horrible mind always drawing fucking blanks.

The fist he landed to the wall hurt. But it didn’t register. It hurt in a practical way, the way he felt his bones shift a little from the impact, pop a little from blunt pressure that should never be.

“ _Oh gosh_ ,”

Behind him the two bodies were panicked, hollering out for someone, someone to come in a contain it. To stop him.

He needed to stop.

Edward. He knows best. Big Brother always knows best. _Only wants what’s best_.

He was on the floor again but not by choice, this time he had two males holding him there. The cold hard slap of the wood beneath him on his cheek could’ve gone a miss and that, more than his ruptured knuckles tore his mind out of the haze it’d been floating in, blinking and finding his voice. Finding his _fight-_

“What the… _what’re you doing_?” He wasn’t shouting, he didn’t need to his voice was weighted enough.

He struggled against the grip, two grown men were a better match than two females. He strained his neck, shoulders shoving against the pair of rough hands at them as he peered up at the nurses, tendons in his neck visible and _stretched_. “What are they doing? Why did you- I didn’t-,”

“-Harry mate, just calm down okay? You’re alright, you-,”

He growled and threw a well - or poorly - aimed elbow right into the diaphragm of the male directly on top of him, knee digging into the bottom of his spine, which shifted. There was a muffled sound of pain, a curse. But it wasn’t enough. The other one took his position and earned him the displeasure of having both arms twisted and pushed to a painful extent.

He cried out in agony and one of the nurses left. She was new, wasn’t used to this brutality.

“Harry. Behave. Do you want more dopamine? Because if you don’t _calm_ , I’ll sure as hell give you it.”

His fight or flight instinct was at war, body still tense and breath laboured.

“ _Harry_.”

The remaining nurse shocked everyone with her next move, coming to kneel before him hands itching outwards before she thought better of it as green eyes shot up to scorch her own.

“Harry, please calm down. Please darling. Louis won’t want to see you like this.”

And just like that, his shoulders dropped, his jaw went lax, lips soft and his struggle, externally and internally slowly, very slowly faded as his mind pushed anything that wasn’t that name aside.

“Louis?” The man was more out of breath than Harry, still not convinced by this obvious calm that had been triggered to let go just yet, “Louis Tomlinson?”

The nurse was already smiling, nodding with a warmth that reminded Harry of his Mother. She threw caution to the wind, threw her entire training out the window when she reached out and swiped the damp hair from Harry’s blotchy face and spoke quietly, “Yes. He’s waiting outside.”

The man practically spluttered his response, “This is deplorable! I thought it was understood he wasn’t allowed contact? Who allowed this? This is _abs_ -,”

“-Bundin. Take it up with her.” There was a bitter taste to her tone when she addressed him, something which dissolved rapidly when returning her gaze to Harry, still pinned to the ground but pliant and focused, “But for now, let’s get those knuckles seen to yeah?”

It was hard to swallow - nod too, but he just about managed both before, “I need to brush my teeth.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was thinking about Edward at a party, I kept coming back to the same old [image](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/1e/13/b9/1e13b99638721852d4992e1e1b3cf62d.gif). Finally drawing to a close. Enjoy?

“ _Lou_ …”

Fucking great. Louis vowed to show minimal emotion, nothing that can harbour an oversensitive reaction from Harry, that was one of the conditions set out that he swore to by Mrs Bundin. That and he’s struggling to remember a time - three months ago - that he were anything other than a stewing pot of conflicting emotions.

He swallowed the great lump that surfaced in his throat and forced a weak smile.

It broke his heart when Harry smiled back, a genuine smile. He knew, they both knew, that Harry can easily tell between what’s genuine and what’s feigned with Louis and it would hurt him to see a smile that the latter were aimed at him.

“I don’t have long.”

His smile broke off then, dimples fading as recognition clouded his features instead and he sat back down only after Louis did.

“How… are…” The stupidity of such a question locked his jaw right up, words fading away like the glint of something that was just in Harry’s eyes.

Pulling the plastic chair forward underneath his bum properly he crossed his ankles, rubber toes of his vans scuffing against the floor, he swallowed the feeling of palpable unease that came with green eyes. “You’re taking your medication?”

Looking at him now, he seemed harmless. In a fashion. All hard edges softened from something that remained a mystery. The urgency that Harry normally exudes and the display had Louis expected, just wasn’t there. His behaviour usually equivalent to a puppy dog who’d been taken from it’s Mother and was desperate for love, too eager, but afraid just as much from notes of past abuse.

None of that was present. The Harry he knew had been twice removed and a screen of a numb detachment had been lodged in instead. Complete with sleepy contours and soft lines, slow breaths and loose fingers that rest softly atop the metal table.

“Don’t have much choice,” His voice was forever a world away from any sort of calm though and it made Louis jump when he finally replied, “do I.”

Harry shifted in his seat, frowning when he dragged his eyes down what he could of Louis’ body and stretched out his back, muscles crunching from the pull as he twisted until there was a decipherable _pop_. He brought his shackled hands beneath the table to rest on his lap, the metal restraints that had Louis’ stomach clenching from the severity of it clanged against the surface.

“Hands where we can see them Styles.”

Louis snapped to one of the men at the corner of the room, an accent broad and Scottish. His eyes dropped to the holster donned at his waist that became visible when he pushed his suit back to place a readied hand on the handle of the gun saddled there.

“…Styles.”

But the boy didn’t move. Just closed his eyes slowly, head almost lolling back until he caught it.

“My arms ache.”

He wasn’t taking any chances though, already moved a couple of steps forward while the gentleman in the other corner watched everything with a trained eye.

“Not my issue laddie, you know the rules.”

Louis was at a loss of what to do, turning his head between the three males before him trying to gage what was about to happen until there was a grumble of something low and incoherent from the one in the middle, the one sat at the table with him and a pair of hands he’d become quite familiar with reappeared with a soft clunk of metal again.

He released a breath and looked back to the two men who exchanged looks of their own before stalking back to their original positions.

“Bit much this, don’t you think?”

It was aimed at the Scottish man, Louis unable to bring himself to care how his voice was more scratched than usual, but then Harry’s mouth did something. It twitched, shifted in some way that wasn’t enough to count as a smile or even a smirk - something both twins were favourable of - and the muscle at his jaw tensed and he answered before they could.

“They’re afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

Louis was looking at him and only him now.

“They’re always sure to inform me that it is in fact  _myself_ , who is the unhinged one yet they’re the ones who have conjured up this- this absurd theory I would or even could, ever lift an ill finger to you.” His laugh wasn’t humorous, just ironic with a slow blink of his eyes, “If you ask me, they’re far more delusional.”

“Harry.” Louis didn’t want to let Harry run his mouth too far, he didn’t know the extent the men who looked like they lacked any scrap of a sense of humour would allow it before taking him away. And that was something he didn’t want to happen.

Harry hung his head to the side, scoffing softly, feeling the aftershocks of the tranquillising drug he’d been given earlier, “Oh baby, God help anyone who did that.”

Louis swallowed again, tongue growing drier by the minute, “Did what?”

He sat back up straight, brows pulled together too harsh that made the eyes below looks darker than they ever should, “Hurt you, of course.”

The addition of colour to his cheeks would’ve been a welcome one, after all he’d been snow white pale from sickly anticipation of seeing Harry all afternoon, but he bowed his head after remembering to snap his jaw shut and pushed the thoughts of Edward somewhere far away so he wouldn’t slip up.

“Oh,” Nodding he let the truth in that settle in. The only consistent or clear thing amidst _all_ of this. That being Harry never hurting him. Not once. Ever. “yeah, right.”

Harry leant into his hands, still braced before him. Louis’ head remained dipped, but his eyes moved up to watch his blurred reflection in the silver tabletop. He stayed as still as possible.

“Lou?”

“Y-yes Harry?”

“Who is it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Who’s hurt you, who is it?”

It felt like his heart was being torn two ways but his head was concrete. “No one. It’s - I’m not hurt.”

The tongue lapping at his lips was audible, “You’re lying to me.”

Louis looked up and had a mental stutter once he realised just how close their faces were, a distant wonder as to why the table was so damn small if they were ardently concerned with keeping contact to a minimum near nil. His own will betrayed him in a momentary lapse of focus and he traced all over those unfortunately wondrous features before him: the whirling pools of emerald, desperate and sincere. Dangerous. Full cherry red lips pulled into a tight line, tempting. Strong nose and a harsh jaw, character.

“I find that a bit rich coming from you.”

Those lips parted, wet from another assault of his tongue and ready to protest but thing is, Louis wasn’t going to let him finish. He didn’t come here for that. He didn’t come to allow himself to be lulled into something that had gotten him so far into this shit storm of a mess already, no. He was risking enough being here in the first place.

“Harry you’ve been lying to me from the beginning,” He pushes on and ignores the heavy drag of unkind metal as Harry pulls back, “I think these good people have all the right to suspect your intentions around me with what you’ve done.”

No.

No, no, _no-_ , “But-,”

“Let me talk.” Louis flattened his palms on the top with a light slam, fingers spread, “For once let me have my say.”

Harry’s mouth moulded around silent sounds, as if testing it’s ability before speaking properly, eyes darting between the sanctuary of blue he’s invested so many years, so much heartache it was always going to come to this. To a blunt exchange of cruel words and a supernova end, nothing good was destined for this type of chaos.

“Why does it feel like we’re a million miles apart despite being in the same room?”

He just wanted someone to listen.

“Harry.”

“You swore a commitment to me, you promised.”

Louis glanced to the man, then back to Harry before leaning in with a hushed voice, “Things have _happened,_ Harry. You’ve been lying to me. I trusted you and you’ve hurt me, not physically but,” Louis prodded finger into the centre of his chest, “here. And it really fucking hurts. Really, really hurts. So I think you owe me the chance to at least have my say-,”

“-For six years I’ve had to watch you have your say. Six, years I’ve sat back and watched you saunter through the school halls like you own them and for six long _fucking_ years I learnt to love every self centred word that fell from your mouth, the worst parts of you,” Harry hissed out his words, eyes blearing, the onset of scalding tears, “the parts that dismissed me and my very fucking existence.”

Louis’ momentary strike of confidence was disarmed at the word. That one word.

Love.

“We’ve b-been through this I’m not go-,”

“ _Why_ Lou?” He was borderline hysterical, way too fast and Louis looked to the men behind Harry for aid, already closing in on him, “Does it make you feel uncomfortable? Knowing that I’m not the better one of the two? That I’m not _perfect_ like Edward, that I’ll never be able to live a full life like he can, never give you the stability you need, the level headed love that you deserve?”

Harry was broken off by his own sobs, lip quivering madly as he hung his head back to blink away the tears rapidly impairing his vision. He cared not for the pair of hands on his shoulders, a warning. He was past it. So far past caring.

“Har-,”

He stopped at a violent shake of his head, “I can’t give you what he can I know that.”

The lump from earlier was back with force and Louis swallowed around the thickness, throat closing in on itself.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” There were gestures being made to someone though the glass panelled door, Louis didn’t look to see what, “I’m sorry I can’t do that but what can I do? I can love you with all my heart and protect you with all my will.”

Louis’ exhausted heart cried but his head was too full of a bitterness than pushed on, right through the emotional massacre. Ignore his plea, ignore your heart, ignore your instinct. It was Edward’s voice infiltrating his own yet again.

“Th-this, this isn’t what this is about Harry, this is about you hurting someone, to the point of-,”

“ _I didn’t touch anyone!_ ” Harry had raised from his seat against the weight of a man much taller and stronger pushing him down.

“ _Hey!_ ” The unnamed man, the one with the gun, tried to get him to take back his seat. “Easy now… easy.”

His cheeks were blotched, neck too, tendons strained and eyes bloodshot as he stared at Louis as if it was the answer, as if it could get him to realise, get him to _listen_. There was a madness in the eyes that held Louis’ gaze whether he wanted to or not. He shouldered away some of the tears that had reached his jaw.

“I didn’t,” All he’d done is shake his head, denying everything, everything being thrown at him from his own subconscious and from the person he loved most dearly, “I -I haven’t done anything.”

He wasn’t speaking to anyone at this point, just wanted someone to hear. It’d felt like he’d been screaming into a void for most of his life and now he’d come to an end, something about this felt very resolute; like something had to give now, whether it was him or someone else this had gone on for too long for him to carry on like before.

Then it came back with just as much punch-to-the-gut pain it had the first time round.

He froze, features falling soft, and let himself be sat down again, guided back by heavy palms atop his shoulders that didn’t budge for a measure of time he wasn’t too concerned with.

A doctor had joined the commotion in the room after the a distress signal was called, unnoticed by Harry who was too wrapped up in realisation. Louis assured him everything was alright and went to sit back himself, after jumping up and away from the table when Harry’s voice hollered out loud enough to crack the plaster off the walls.

“I just need you to admit it, Harry. Just admit it and things will be easier, I swear Harry _please_.”

He’d curled himself back into the seat, waiting with a jogging leg for Harry to respond.

But nothing.

“Harry I know what you do to Edward. Is this why? Is the why you hurt him so much?”

It wasn’t going in because he wasn’t listening. Too overthrown with the paralysing memory of what he were doing after the shower. He remembers now. Remembers why he panicked. Why he was on the floor. Why he felt like he was bleeding from the inside out.

“Louis…”

He was going to do it. The pills. He’d been fighting against it since yesterday, since Edward told him, but here he still was. The pills were there, he had them in his hand and he was so close to finally doing it. But something had stopped him; some mechanism had malfunctioned and forced him to break down instead of shut down. His body’s natural response to internal threat, obviously, putting up one last defence, telling him to _not do it._

And now he knows why. Because now here Louis is. It was always going to be him that stopped him.

For the second time.

“I love you.”

Louis blinks. Waits, to let himself repeat inwardly what he’d heard, giving it a moment to sink in just incase. And when he concludes he’d heard correctly - “I…” Nope. “I-I know, Harry, I know but-,”

“You’re the sun and I’m-,”

“-the moon.”

Harry meets his gaze, eyes so wide and lost Louis can’t stop his smile. It was alive with the brief history of shared moments, bizarre and unorthodox as they’ve always been but genuine, for him at least, and the emotion it draws is unfathomable. His smile stays put and it stays until it prompts one from Harry, ten times more charming and dazzling which gets Louis - despite _everything_ \- giggling.

“Why does it have to be like this you soddi…” If Louis’d completed the end of that sentence it was muffled from scrubbing his hands over his face, “I know why you did this. Ben is a prick, he’s been horrible to me and with Ryan and that night at the lake… oh God I get it okay? I understand you, he hurt me so you wanted to hurt him back and thought by getting his boyfriend it’d make things even.”

Harry groaned, the thread of hope he’d got a hold of slowly being pulled back through his fingers, “No, Louis no people keep telling me about this Jasper and all the horribl-,”

“-Harry.”

Harry balled up his fists and banged them on the table, ignoring the shouts from both men and the Doctor to rein it in. “ _Louis_.”

Louis was adamant though.

“Stop it.”

“ _But I didn’t-_ ,”

“-Haz everything you do is for me. Right?”

Harry retreated back, realising he was leaning forward in his seat again, “Right.”

Right.

“Right. And so you thought you were being loyal by hurting who posed a threat to me?”

“N-,”

“- _Right_. And by hurting Edward, marking his face just because he spent some time with me is because you’re frustrated and think he’s better than you and hence I’d start to prefer him, right?”

“…right.” Harry nodded until he caught up with it, “-wait, no?”

“No?”

“No.”

Louis sighed, looked down to his hands atop the table, felt every bit a ticking time bomb. Roles had been refreshingly reversed as it always felt like he were the dear little lamb treading on egg shells but right now- _fuck_. Right now he was beginning to lose it just a touch. All of the the pain that Harry has caused, be it on purpose or not was coming to a head and all he’s doing is adding it up and up in his head and it was making him tired. Tired and testy.

The doctor was a gentle hum at his side then, Louis actually having forgotten he were even there for the most part. He issued him with a kind warning or rather, reminder, to keep conversation of Edward at a minimum.

“You think I did that?” Harry was moving, or his hands were at least, the metal echoing around the walls again, "Louis do you think I hurt him?"

Louis ignored him for the moment, still conversely softly with the professional about something Harry’s ears rang a white noise to with what had just been unearthed.

“Lou. _Louis_.”

When he turned around he took a deep, painful breath and with a forced control replied with a curt, “What?”

“Why would you think I was responsible for that?”

“Because you are, Harry.” He closed his eyes, regaining what was left of his composure before continuing. “Because of everything I’ve just said.”

“I haven’t fought with Edward since-,”

“-The conversation took place over the line when you raced out to meet us Harry, you heard him tell me word for word how it happened so why deny it? Why are you denying _everything_ at this point in the game? This is as bad as it gets. Can’t you see that? You’re institutionalised. You’re criminally insane, you talk about hitting rock bottom one day but guess what? _This. Is. It_.”

Emotions had surfaced, risen to tipping point and come crashing down on him without mercy. The patience that he had been practising since getting to know this boy had come to an abrupt stop, the faint flicker of restraint he’d held thus far had been extinguished, quicker than wet fingers to a candle’s flame. If he was being harsh he didn’t care.

“But…”

The men were no longer looking at Harry but at Louis now, who had risen for the second time and shouting with a pointed finger, “You need to accept what you’ve done. There is nothing left to do. No more lives left, no more chances to be dished out, you know what you need to do so just fucking do it for heavens’ sake.”

But those words hit him harder than Louis could’ve known. The desolation was all consuming. His mind an icy waste land, the ruins of all the unrequited adore, all the good intentions and confusion and _pain_ he’d caused.

Looking to the clinically pristine metal of the table before him, his glassy eyes fluttered, a tear he couldn’t feel when he muttered, “Kill myself…”

There was a wind that howled in his soul as Louis dropped his hand and looked at him as if he were disgusted.

“So it’s true.” He shook his head, dropped it and stepped back around the chair. “I can’t believe you’d do that to your own Brother.”

It was like he was being robbed of coherent ability. Emotionally bankrupt. The tiny will, the smallest glimmer still fighting that was brought on by Louis to keep going and pushing, the only thing that moved his thick tongue and idle voice box, “He-,”

“-Save it Harry.”

Harry listened to the small conversation, regrettable tones and understanding head tilts from the doctor when he closed his eyes, another tear falling as he swallowed the excess saliva pooling around his mouth.

“Edward told me to do it.”

 

 

*

 

_-Two days later-_

 

This wasn’t what Louis was expecting when Lucy had declared her Brother was hosting a ‘get together’.

Although, it shouldn’t have come that much of a shock considering when he last mooched around with Luke - Lucy’s said brother - he promised that he’d only have a ‘couple’ and be off. Seven cans of Budweiser and enough rum to fuel a small pirate ship for a week later, he was throwing up blood until 4PM the following day.

No gray area with him.

So walking into Lucy’s home since birth, he shouldn’t have winced as the music swallowed him whole. The beat that could be heard thumping through the brick, the bass humming under his feet through the concrete steps as he approached the door.

The door was swung open before he even reached the top.

“ _Louiiiiiiiis!_ ”

Liam had lost it.

“L- _Liam?_ ”

He stood there, staring at his clearly inebriated friend in utter disbelief. He doesn’t recall seeing him this drunk even at his birthday party when he so easily engaged in titillating conversation about penises and banana boats with none other than Harry sodding Styles.

Okay. That name will stay out of his mouth for tonight. Alcohol however…

“Get your royal backside inside now.”

Louis couldn’t help but bark a laugh. Passing his swaying friend who was sure he had a glass in each hand yet still managed to slap his bottom on the way by and into the entrance. The gush of wind on his back told him the door had been closed again but he didn’t look. It wasn’t so dark inside but the music screaming through the system felt like it should be. The thrum of bodies that surrounded him made a claustrophobic trigger niggle that he only had when near walls with no escape.

He was fine.

“Thanks.” Louis swiped a glass of something, didn’t care what, off the tray a girl was holding as she passed. He tipped his head back and swallowed it with a few hasten gulps, hissing inwardly at the burn whilst a hand clapped his back.

“Tomlinson, top form tonight I see?” Percy.

Fuck.

People, they were everywhere. He swung around, with the back of his hand pressed against his lips as he recovered still from the burn of clear liquid and nodded, “Yep. Time to forget my name.”

 

*

 

He had been thrown about the party all night and that being in quite the literal sense. Having recently been a bit of a social recluse people wanted to know what had been so important, what had been happening in Louis Tomlinson’s usually public life that had him stepping out and away from the spotlight.

Why didn’t you make the graduation party?

What about that trip to the Lake District, thought it was weird you weren’t there being so _everyone_ else was.

Have you lost weight?

…Yeah, you’ve definitely lost weight.

What’s happened to your schedule? Lucy was complaining for an entire week because you missed rehearsals and she had to train with Brian Furley instead who doesn’t know the difference between a ballon and a _balloné_.

Are you sure you haven’t lost weight?

Oh and what’s this about hanging out with Harry Styles?

Louis wasn’t sure if he choked on his drink or his own spit. He’d not gone less than a minute without some sort of poison in his grasp all night so all liquids have begun to merge about an hour ago. He kind of thinks he understands why those people who just walk around with the bottles instead do that. Cut out the middle man.

“Sorry,” He cleared his throat, bony fingers covering his mouth while he made sure he wasn’t going to splutter in this poor girl’s face, “what, um, _what did you say_?”

He squinted at her, trying to remember her name. Which is one of the reasons why this was so infuriating. He didn’t _really_ even know this girl. So whoever has blabbed - he’s placing his bets on Lucy - has done so to whoever they very well pleased about that little coffee date they breached.

“Yeah, didn’t he get arrested? Harry.”

Louis’ head spun, has been spinning for about ten minutes now. Perhaps longer.

“Um, I- yeah, think so.” He frowned, grunted something at the person with broad shoulders who had just pushed past him and was about to attempt to draw enough sober sense together to interrogate her a little further when the person who’d just passed turned back around apparently having heard what he thought was an under the breath curse.

“- _fuck_ was that?”

Louis curled his fingers around his glass, swirling the ice cubes around it with his straw.

“You have something to say pretty boy?”

This guy wasn’t necessarily that big, not particularly scary in any way and judging by the way he spoke didn’t have enough brain cells to pick and choose worthy fights so Louis felt he were onto a flop already. He had a black sweatshirt that was a little too small on him that clung in all the wrong areas around his middle and shoulders. Something about how he was squaring up to him less threatening but way more awkward that it should be, and whether it was that or the sordid influence of the alcohol in his veins, Louis pushed into the centre of the hall with him, ignoring the hurried chatter from… that girl.

“ _You_ ,” Louis staggered into a suitable stance, blinking a little too slowly then much too fast, trying to focus on the sweatshirt, “are entirely too broad for this hallway.”

People around them had caught on and were shuffling to the side to allow broad boy to close in.

“You calling me fat?” Louis drew his head back at the chubby finger now in front of his face, “Pretty boy’s calling me fat.”

Louis squinted, trying to figure out what kind of person asks a question then answers it in the same breath while trying to be intimidating. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Little _fuckin-_ ,”

The same time a hand fisted the material at his neckline an impressive, high pitched whistle tore though the hallway and Louis along with a few others turned to it, blinking away the bleariness from the alcohol. There was the silhouette of someone standing in the door way at the other end, the mini crowd splitting in two as they covered ground. It only became clear who it was when he came within eight or so feet, Louis’ vision apparently gone to shit.

“There a problem?”

The rush of what can only be described as regrettable relief washed over him at the voice.

His shoulders sagged, tense no more from the imminent threat had been wiped very clean and looked back to the boy whose hands had disappeared immediately from his t-shirt.

“N-no, mate. Course not. Just-,”

“Just what?”

Edward was finally here. Looking casual and long and formidable as ever and actually quite _odd_ in an open blue checked shirt, stretching beyond his usual monochrome palette.

They’d agreed to arrive separately, Edward not giving any inclination as to when he planned on doing so but just promised he’d be there at some point. Both deciding it best to remain unattached at this point in proceedings, with everything going on Louis didn’t want people knowing he had any more of a link of any personal level to the Styles’ than what was expected.

“Nothing,” In his mildly - more than mildly but Louis was denials’ biggest fan - drunken state he smiled lazily, lips pursing cutely with a lowered head as he felt Edward brush up to his side, his cologne detectable and heady enough to rise over his slurred senses, “doesn’t matter.”

There was something territorial about his arrival. Something too many people have witnessed far too many times before that only a few were stupid enough to ignore.

“Excellent,” Edward smiled, it looked genuine but Louis knew better, looking up at the strong jaw working as he smacked on some gum, “you got Lee’s message?”

Louis didn’t care to look back at the idiot, far too engrossed in the cockiness at his side. He must’ve nodded though and pretty fast too because cockiness was replying again, saying how it was a good thing he caught him sober for the second time or something. Louis didn’t care. He really didn’t care. Edward was here now and it was alright. He wasn’t going to have to talk to anyone about anything he didn’t want to, could just hang around Edward instead.

“Evening sweet pea,” Louis closed his eyes, fingers tightening around his glass at the lips moving against his ear, “come on.”

Didn’t care who saw either, quite literally ignoring the questioning looks the hand that was now on the small of his back was drawing.

And just like that he was being hauled from the corridor. He tried to make out the passing rooms and obstacles from his peripherals. People he didn’t care about moving and staring on the way. He’d had enough of it, asides from four people he was sick of them. Sick of pretending he was okay, talking about shit he didn’t want to talk about, answering things he didn’t feel comfortable about, putting up this phoney front just to please all these people that didn’t really care at all. He only needed the one holding his hand, the one who _did_ care and knew everything, up front and leading him through the mass of these people, guiding somewhere that he hoped involved soft surroundings and a singular set of green eyes all to himself.

“Edward…”

He was being hushed, Edward able to hear him even above the deafening bass. The long fingers tightened around his own and he still pushed on, pausing every other second to give someone a one armed hug or a brief ‘hello’ until he were back on track.

Louis hiccuped and tasted a foul mix of too much alcohol and what he hoped wasn’t the undertone of vomit.

Something heavy was being shifted, a sweeping or dragging motion of something sturdy and Louis nearly bumped into him from the sudden stop. Slowly, he lifted his gaze that had been trained tenaciously on long legs wrapped in the tightest black denim to see that it was a patio door.

The gush of cool air whipped around his face, fluttered his hair and he closed his eyes against the crisp notes of early autumn. It seemed only yesterday Edward was taking him to get ice cream and they spoke about how there were plenty of warm summer nights left for such an occasion. Time has never passed so quickly.

“Alright, s’a good spot…” Edward’s grumble was closer, after pulling the glass door back into place and with doing so blocking out the inside to a low frequency hum, he was helping him down the few steps ahead.

His hands wrapped full circle around Louis’ forearms and Louis couldn’t tear away from where they were joined, letting himself be guided down a little shakily until he felt his bum bump the concrete. He landed with a soft ‘ooft’ and an even softer frown, trying to figure out the exact point he’d adopted the inability to move by himself.

Edward was next to him in a beat, long legs bent, with a hunched back as he fiddled with a packet of cigarettes he’d swiped from somewhere.

“Apologies for my late arrival,” Louis was captive to his actions, watching as the amber glow of the lighter highlighted his sharp features, eyebrows knitting together as he focused on the tip of his cigarette in the hollow of his palms, “got sidetracked and lost the capacity to tell time.”

“…s’okay,” Louis shrugged, realised he was missing a weight in his hands. He’d misplaced his drink. And his jacket, goosebumps prickling on his bare arms.

“No,” The smoke rippled out into the air in all it’s intoxicating glory before vanishing seconds later, “it’s not okay. I should’ve been here earlier, Ben and others were here, I knew how you felt about this and I should’ve been here to look out for you. Fuck knows how uncomfortable you’ve been.”

He’d felt like crying all night but he wasn’t going to let him know. It really didn’t matter.

“I’m not an infant Eduardo,” He rolled his eyes, “ _quite_ capable of looking after myself now I’m an adult.”

“So that back there,” He was talking, but staring straight ahead into the black of the night, the vast majority of the garden not visible from here, “that was you looking after yourself.”

“I had him where I wanted him.”

Edward laughed, stuttering out his smoke, “A second away from splitting your nose?”

Louis stared, bit down on his tongue as he tried not to let amusement cloud his face. Edward side eyed him, taking another drag before letting his hand fall limp over his knee, tapping the ash of the end.

Louis frowned, “What?”

“You need me, sweetness.”

It’s time Louis started to accept this. Because above all else, this has been proven a certified fact.

“Do not.”

Louis was adorable in his defiance, chin turned upwards with a small huff. It would’ve been perfect if he didn’t sway and nearly lose his balance. Stupid alcohol.

Edward was laughing though, a dimple staring right at him as he took another drag before throwing it to the ground and stubbing it out with his toe. He turned his head down as smoke filtered through his nostrils before hooking a hand around the thigh of Louis’ that were closest to him, pulling him so he could enjoy a little bit more of a drunken version of the virtue he wished to rip apart.

“You missed me though.” His eyes were dark, lids half down as he rand a thumb over the top of his thigh where it rested, not caring for any possible onlookers.

His leg was pressed against Edwards’ so much so that it might as well just be flung over the top of it. The desire to skip a few inevitable steps and just crawl entirely into his lap as he always does was a difficult one to ignore with the way he were looking at him, like he knew the damn answer already and just wanted to hear him say it. Watch him say it. Secure the ownership they already know was taking it’s steady place.

But Louis was entirely too conservative to make good of any of those thoughts and remained still, allowing Edward the possessive grip on his inner thigh and nothing else.

“Bit of a waste that,” He flicked his head to the half smoked cigarette butt, “all that effort to take in so much poison but not finishing the job.”

“You’re suddenly concerned about my health?”

Louis raised his eyebrows, “I’m concerned about waste.” He looked back to the cigarette, “And litter.”

“Oh my little environmentalist,” Edward’s chuckle could replace the warmth the alcohol in his veins had blessed him with, “so you’re saying I should quit? Or smoke more.”

“I’m saying, you should buy less expensive death sticks if you’re only going to do half a job,” Louis huffed out a tiny sigh, letting his head fall onto the expanse of the shoulder that was a perfect height for it to rest nicely, “should also dispose of any rubbish you have appropriately.”

“So, psychology 101,” Edward nosed the top of Louis’ head, eyes flashing up to see if anyone was watching through the panel, “the underlying message here, is I should be more careful of my placement, by appropriate standards,” He flexed the hand that rest on Louis’ thigh, “and finish what I start.”

Louis’d closed his eyes from the all round comfort he found in his resting place, Edward’s voice a weird lullaby. He’d grown used to having some part of him being physically claimed by the elder for so long now that he forgot about the hand. His eyes peeled back open, a secret gasp that went undetected by his captor from the pinch to his inner thigh.

Without pulling off his shoulder altogether he looked up to him, blue eyes big and watery from fatigue.

“Perhaps…”

Edward wasn’t saying anything but he didn’t need to. As soon as his eyes flicked down to his lips, a tongue was flicked out to wet them. Louis did the same, coiling a hand around the bicep he leant on, fingers trailing down the material of his shirt until it came to his exposed forearm.

Green eyes were following the movement, drinking in every last breath he felt on his face as this boy threw him off for the first time. The hand that had trailed the extent of his arm had travelled to his own, laying over the top of it now and moving it. Louis kept his eyes on Edward, subconsciously sucking in his lower lip as he guided Edward further up the inside of his thigh, where it was warmer and tighter and-

“You’re killing me,” Edward was transfixed on where his hand was, “princess.”

Louis’ thoughts were with him, right up until they weren’t. Right up until that word, _killing._ A common phrase, an appropriate one after all, but an unfortunate connection was made by his stupid drunk neurons that had chosen this critical moment to tie together something that happened two days ago to something entirely unrelated at present, yet the same said neurons couldn’t allow him to pronounce ‘ _effervescent_ ’ without sounding like a dry fish early on in the evening.

Louis froze, both hands, his own and Edward’s tucked away in a wrapped heat and he lifted his head.

Edward saw the jolt. Knew it wasn’t from pleasure and looked straight back.

“I need-,” Louis swallowed dryly, removing their hands slowly, moment having _annoyingly_ sailed, “Can I ask you something?”

“Always,” It took a little bit more restraint to get Edward to keep his hand away for the time being, being entirely unaware of the goings on inside of Louis’ muddled little mind, “go ahead my sweet.”

Louis may have squeaked when the patio door opened and the music that had been an irrelevant background noise cascaded into their not so private bubble out there on the steps, Edward snapping his head around with a fire in his eyes at who’d dared to disturb them.

When he saw it was Liam, his anger subsided a little. But when he spied Ben through the panel next to him, back turned and apparently in an engaging conversation with a petite red haired boy, it settled to a simmering burn.

“Louis oh my… sake Lou-, been calling fer fuckin’ ages,” He was walking funny, looking like he should fall over with the next step but knees not quite buckling enough yet, “here, _take it_ \- take your phone.”

Louis looked dumbly at the device - his device - being flapped about in an alarmingly loose hold.

“Oh, right um, thanks.” He slipped from Edward’s cincture and stretched up, feeling oddly sober when in the presence of a walking hangover in the making, “Where was it?”

“It’s there…?” Liam looked as if Louis were asking him the stupidest question, half turning away already, “Just do your business, business needs to be done okay?”

Louis was acutely aware of Edward at his side. Couldn’t bare to look at his reaction. But, because there is silver lining among all disasters, he was maybe just grateful for some glorious reason Liam had failed to acknowledge Edward was even there at all, even with _everything_ he’d just staggered out here making little to no sense, handed him his phone and left. Louis rolled his lips to stop from smiling as he watched Liam attempt to reach for the handle four times before he finally got it on the fifth, the champ, and made it look like the world’s most excruciating task when pushing it back across.

He swivelled back around, a giggle in the back of his throat, an apology on his tongue when he caught the lit up screen of his phone and a caller ID staring up at him.

_‘Talcon Powder’_

He saved her as _talcon powder_ because just incase, you know? Just incase there were ever a situation like _this_. And because it’s the first thing he thinks of when he thinks of her. Next to Harry of course. But what could she be wanting at such a late hour? It had to be nearly midnight by now for sure. Despite the unlikeliness she was ringing for a gossip and a night cap, even if she were, wasn’t this was beyond unprofessional?

Edward had seen the screen long before him however and was sat facing him, leaning into an arm braced on the step behind.

“Do I want to know?” He was half smirking, half sussing him out.

“After, I take this, I’ll tell you,” _Gives me long enough to think up a believable story,_ “but I really, really need to take this.”

By instinct, his hand had been over the receiver so she couldn’t hear a thing.

Edward said nothing, just nodded with that curious look about him still. He watched as Louis raised to his feet a little shakily, stumbling once or twice and _groaning_ at the feeling of having to wait for his brain to join him, along with all the blood that had relocated to his groin from earlier ministrations.

“You’re getting me paranoid sneaking off to have all these secret telephone calls.”

Louis could only flash him an apologetic look as he pulled the door back open, already feeling the nausea come back in abundance at the smell of alcohol and too many colognes and perfumes and body heat and everything that he’d been drowning in prior to Edward’s arrival.

He got through the house quick and thankfully unbothered, keeping his head down on his way to the front of the building. He was back out in the fresh air before he knew it, not wanting to risk having this conversation inside. He jogged down the front steps and let himself calm, breath fogging before him as he finally raised the phone to his ear, swiftly checking she was even still on the other end.

“Mrs Bundin.”

MB: “Louis, my dear what on earth took you this long to answer? I was mighty close to hanging up.”

“Gosh, yeah sorry, just um, I left my phone- what’s wrong? Why are you ringing me at…” He glanced at his phone screen, squinting at the brightness, “ _eleven fifty PM?_ ”

There was a sigh and Louis’ stomach was already tense with dread.

MB: “Darling I know it’s late and I shouldn’t be contacting you at such an hour, especially on the weekend, it’s unprofessional to say the least. Goodness, if they knew I were talking to you about this.”

Louis didn’t know what to say, peered over his shoulder at the house, the sound of a few people pooling out onto the porch. He turned back around, gravel rumbling under his - _bare_ feet? Well, socked feet, but still. When did _that_ happen?

“Okay… who are they?”

MB: “The doctors, Louis. Doctor Stein? The head psychologist at the institute, he told me to leave you out of this. Thought it was absurd to accuse you of such a thing but, but you see the thing is dear I just can’t get it out of my _head-_ ,”

“Accuse me of what? What’s happened?”

An answer he equal amounts desperately wanted to know and wanted to run from.

MB: “It’s Harry, he’s… well,”

No. No, no, no, no-

MB: “You see they found something in his room, something that shouldn’t have been there and couldn’t have actually gotten there without intervention from an outside source. And I can’t stop thinking about any of it, the implications of it and the _mystery_. I was hoping you’d be able to shed some light to keep me, for lack of a more suitable word, sane.”

Oh.

Okay.

“Right…”

MB: “Louis they found some medication, a small packet of pills hidden quite expertly under the fixing of his bed post, wedged right in. These specific pills are not distributed by the staff there, but they were prescribed to Harry last year, to try manage his sleeping patterns a little more efficiently.”

“Oh my- so, what, what does this mean, what’re you trying to say?”

MB: “Well, when-,”

“Is he alright?”

MB: “Yes dear, he’s fine. He was questioned about them but wouldn’t answer where he got them from, he’s sustained a worrying silence over them ever since they were uncovered this morning. My question to you, my boy, is one that I presume is quite obvious by now.”

Louis stopped his circular pace on the drive, “You think I brought them in.”

MB: “I don’t think anything. I am remaining neutral until any evidence is solidified. I just ask for you to be absolutely honest with any information you have over them.”

“Do his parents know? Why me? I don’t, I don’t understand why you’re telling me.”

MB: “Because only four people have visited him, this being his Mother, Father, Brother and well, you. And yes, they were contacted late this evening, as you can imagine they were pretty distraught and just as perplexed as we are.”

Louis sighed into the speaker, running a hand through his hair to the back of his head, hanging his head back to the blanket of inky blue above him.

MB: “This medication was brought in from his own home, by someone who has access to them, they have to have been. Bit of a coincidence if they were brought in any other way. However the most daunting thing about this is the reason why.”

A trickle of some sort of pain worked its’ way down Louis’ temple then, he tried massaging it away, closing his eyes.

“How d’you mean?”

MB: “Louis the amount of pills present would be more than enough to succeed an overdose.”

The pain in his head was forgotten. “What.”

MB: “Harry has the tendency to be suicidal at his worst, you know this, you know how things are. Now, my theory is - if it wasn’t you who gave him those, then whoever did, has administered these to him with the knowledge of this tendency and carried on regardless. Knowing that allowing Harry to have those sleepers, is highly dangerous in his current state.”

Louis was going to fall.

If he didn’t move he was going, to, _fall_.

“I-,”

He was fighting his feet, one in front of the other, too quick yet not quick enough, a hand reaching out to what he thought was a tree but ended up being a car. His body slammed a little harshly into the window, people looked, but didn’t care. Just another drunken teenager.

MB: “Louis? Louis are you there?”

“Kill himself…”

MB: “Yes, there’s a chance he might of and I-,”

“He told him to do it… oh my G-, _oh my God-_ ,”

MB: “Louis dear, who are you talking to?”

“Edward.”

MB: “Edward? Edward Styles, his Brother is with you?”

Louis shook his head, his heart was going to fail him. Pretty sure his tongue would if not, felt like it was swelling in his mouth.

MB: “ _Louis._ ”

“Please,” He was staring at the house, knowing who was inside, knowing full well he had to join him; he had to do something, “can I call you back?”

MB: “Dear are you alright-,”

“M'fine. I’m okay, I just need to go, go sort something out, I’ll call you tomorrow I promise.”

He was still staring, body immune to the temperature of the bitter outside, back growing hot against the cool glass.

After convincing an unconvinced Mrs Bundin to let him go, he was off before he could think better of it. Didn’t know what to do, or where to start, he’d figure it out on the way. But he knew _who_ he needed. It can’t be true, it can’t be right, it doesn’t make sense for his own blood to- no. Of all things, of all horrors that had come to light, all nightmares that had been made his reality over the past few months _that_ , was something he wasn’t going to accept.

Percy was the first he recognised.

“Edward disappeared with Ben, seems pissed.” He was eating - surprise - some peanuts or something annoyingly crunchy, trying to talk through mouthfuls, “Are you ever going to tell me what the deal is with you guys… like…,” Louis wanted to slap the bowl of fucking nuts right out of his hands, “I saw you talking to him earlier- how tight are you with those twins?”

He waved his hand and told him that he can’t hear him over all the music and the _crunching_ , “… just, where did you say he went again?” He raised his own voice to a level where it kind of was starting to hurt his throat, leaning forward so he didn’t miss it.

When he repeated exactly what he’d said before and with the exact company previously stated, Louis tried his best to hide the panic he felt in his gut.

“Okay,” He nods once, looks to the entrance to kitchen, to the bowl of nuts that has Percy’s nimble fingers fumbling around in then back to the door, “alright great, thank-,” He hiccuped and was certain he were closer to actually throwing up this time, “thanks.”

He turned around and felt his way across the counter until he came to the sink, nudging someone in a less than polite manner to get to the tap. Opening the water he tipped his head to the side, ignoring the look of horror that he received from the boy he’d just smushed and let it run onto his tongue, lapping it up in all it’s sobering glory.

Wiping his face clean with the back of his hand he started back towards the door and threw a quick, “Be right back,” to a bewildered Percy. Still chewing.

Checking the first floor, there were copious amounts of people, strange faces. None he recognised. Pushing in and out of all rooms quickly, he grew anxious with every second he hadn’t uncovered Edward and Ben. _Ben._ If he didn’t find them soon he was going to absolutely destroy him, that much was for certain. He didn’t know why or what Ben’s done to make Edward so angry but whatever it was Edward wouldn’t be sensitive to the fact his new little boyfriend was in hospital, he wouldn’t soften any blow.

With the less than pleasant image of various vivid consequences of Edward’s keen temper planting themselves into Louis’ mind, he swung himself round the banister and hopped up the second flight of steps to the third floor.

This level was eery quiet, the music was still obnoxiously loud but you could definitely hold a conversation up here without having to damage your vocal chords. Louis dragged his feet onto the landing when he stopped at the sight of a door wide open, the room angled at a point to which he couldn’t see into it entirely but could hear, very clearly.

Not sure he was ready to face this kind of duo, to pose a question that he for once had no idea of the answer, he takes a deep breath in. Realising he couldn’t live with himself if he walked away, let it go and padded towards the singularly lit room, still bothering about when exactly it was he removed his shoes.

“Not after last time mate,” He stopped short of the door, just out of sight. Ben is refusing to something Edward must’ve suggested, “not after the state he was left in.”

“Are you forgetting you are in severe debt to me?”

“Styles, mate, I know. But Tockwell had a game of hide and seek with death, you said it wouldn’t end up that bad.”

Louis presses himself against the wall, mouth hung open and growing a little dry. He strained his ears to focus on the voices, the palpations in his chest from sugary alcohol really not helping at all.

“Besides,” Ben again, “you said this time would be different. You fucking promised man, you said -what was it, you needed to _scuff him up a little bit_ , enough to make it a serious enough offence to frame him.”

There was a shuffle and a groan, Edward. “I got a little carried away.”

“ _A little carried away…_ ” Ben mocked him, “ _A little_ \- Styles he’s laid practically immobile in a hospital bed!”

“Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?” There was a pause, filled with Louis’ beating heart. “ _Look_ at me you piece of shit.”

Louis hands were curling around the doorframe without him realising it. His body needing something to hold on to, something that reminded him this was all happening, that he was hearing correctly and he was present and it was real. This was all very, very, real.

“Mate, I’m sorry but I ca- _ah-_ ,”

It’s too late before he can conceal the gasp that escapes his mouth when he hears a shout and then a dull thud. He doesn’t think when he turns his neck so harshly it hurts to peer around the wooden frame.

Edward is mad. A rage he’s never gotten to witness, only heard about, erupts and he punches Ben square in the stomach but grapples his jaw so tight forcing him to stay upright against his body’s natural recoil.

“First off, I’m not your _mate._ ” Another fist to his stomach and another cry, spit pooling over and onto Edward’s hand, “I didn’t expect Harry to go that far with Ryan. He’s fucking _ill_ you incapable cunt, which means he’s unpredictable at most times and although I can manipulate so much, when it comes to that boy, he’s even dumber than usual. And Jasper?” Louis felt the ice cold panic begin it’s path of destruction from the back of his head, the nape of his neck tingling with it’s bite as he watched Edward’s hand tighten it’s cradle on his jaw, causing Ben to cry out helplessly with it open an locked into position like that, body doubled over from the pain at his core, “I needed to let off some steam.”

Louis’ spine went rigid. His stomach knotted to a painful extent. The vomit he was sure he tasted earlier curdled in his stomach as he watched Edward continue crushing his jaw, fingertips squeezing the soft area of his cheeks while his palm applied an unworldly amount of pressure to the bone.

A sound from outside, where Louis was, too close to where Louis was stops Edward in his tracks and he looks towards the door, Louis having thankfully retreated half a second before. He pressed himself against the wall already so he doesn’t see him. His breath was too shallow, too deep, too messy and too raspy to go unnoticed though, he needed to move.

Louis spies what the sound was, watching as a giggling duo stumble up to join him, nearly tumbling over the top step and shushing Louis when they see him watching with wild eyes.

He jumps at the sound of a body being dropped to the floor and without a second to hesitate, takes off towards the strangers, weaving around them and down the stairs so fast his eyes blur and his breath wheezes and the music fades.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the sins I'm about to commit in this chapter.
> 
> **TW: Mentions/implications of suicide.**

If it weren’t for the rain that had transcended from a gentle pitter patter to a thunderous downpour, he would’ve been down the drive and around the corner by now. He’d be tucked away, waiting across the road behind that low wall he remembers hiding behind with Liam and Jake when they were younger; keeping quiet and still until they jumped out at Lucy when she crossed the road to walk to the lemonade shop. Every single time she fell for it and every single time it got funnier. That was one of the highlights of the summer months for the boys back then, even if they had to endure her ignoring them for an hour or so, pointing out how one of these days, one _time_ , she’s going to have a heart attack and die. At the old age of 13.

However Louis didn’t fancy waiting outside in the rain like that, didn’t want his skin to soak and risk catching something as he still has no idea where he’d left his jacket. So inside it was.

He barely heard the line pick up, shouldering his way through all the blurry people moving together, constantly checking back over his shoulder. He was so out of it and entirely too focused at the same time that he tells the taxi office his own address at first, forgetting where he were.

“ _How long?_ ”

He shouts into the phone, finger stuck in his ear to try drown out the barbaric noise of _people_.

Ten minutes maximum.

He can do this. Thanking the operator he hangs up and eyes up his options, cursing himself to come to; to flush out the alcohol blearing his system.

Ten more minutes is easy. He’s survived ten _weeks_.

He stands idle in the kitchen, a vague feeling of his own skin prickling with a sensation he’s not sure he’s experienced before. This entire ordeal is something he’d yet to contend with.

“Water…” He’s back at the sink he fled from not minutes ago, “water’s good.”

There’s no one blocking it this time so he makes quick work of opening up the tap and splashing it over his face, kind of slapping himself in the process. He cups his hands to drink a little through trembling lips, not bothering to grab a glass.

Reaching down blindly for the towel that usually hangs off the hook underneath the bar he frowns when he doesn’t feel anything, running his hands along frantically in search of something to dry off his face.

“Louis, baby, baby, _babyyy_ ,” It was a girl.

Louis swings round on his heels, trying to cover up how his whole body jolts from the soft touch of fingers on his shoulder. He drops his t-shirt back down, damp now from patting his face and swallows thickly, painfully, “Lucy, hey, y-you’re-,”

“Sober? Yeah, I know. I’ve drank myself sane,” She pulled a face, raising the glass in her hand, “Didn’t think that was an actual thing until now.”

Louis wasn’t listening. He was nodding anyway.

“You okay? I’ve barely seen you all night crumpet.”

He couldn’t not laugh. If he didn’t want to give in to the vomit making itself known in his stomach, he had to do something to pretend it wasn’t there.

“Me, just been mooching, mingling,” He’s definitely not coming across genuine nor does he really care, “people can really talk.”

“Yeah…” Louis thinks she’s just being kind, she knows something’s wrong from his weird borderline boring conversation, “they can.”

Louis is still nodding, fingers curled around the lip of the kitchen counter when he sees him. Just past Lucy’s bare shoulders, coming through the thickest part of the crowd, easy to spot from him being a couple of inches taller than most.

The breath he sucked in felt like a dagger. He stutters out about really needing to pee, holding her still long enough to give him a window of mere seconds to go unseen while he’s still facing this way.

Lucy was slim and far too slender to hide him, even with his own petite proportions.

Someone shouts, something loud and obnoxious and just when Louis was about to dash he thanks whatever entity didn’t let him, because Edward was still working his way to their position until that shout. It was a split second but that’s all he needed, Lucy looking at Louis like he was a mad man one minute then turning by instinct to the riot the next.

All eyes were on the rowdy girls, the ones doing the shouting and he dashed.

Letting go of her arms he slips to his right, straight into the small crowd of five or six gathered there, lingering around the tall glass cabinets. The looks he receives aren’t kind, Louis catching the end of a ‘ _-weirdo fucking doing?_ ’ as he snakes around the last person, trying to do it as casually as possible before crossing a clearing in the gatherings.

His breath is surprisingly controlled, he doesn’t feel like he’s about to lose it at the mention of his name or the flash of a checked shirt and that vomit may just stay put.

Once back into one of the main hall he hot footed it, slipping through the crowds, on his tiptoes one minute to squeeze through gaps and ducking past loose limbs - something that was surprisingly more fluid without shoes - the next. He sighs when the entrance come into view up ahead, feeling the hairs on his skin rise from exposure. He knows he can’t stay here, it’s too open, far too well lit. If Edward even had the slightest clue that Louis’d heard anything, this would undoubtedly be where he’d be sure to find him, waiting for a ride.

Walking towards the lounge door, he looks to his wrist to check the time, besides the fact he hasn’t worn a watch in his entire eighteen years. Stopping short he pats his pockets, heart dropping through his arse when he can’t feel his phone.

“Looking for this?”

He may as well just bend forward and let the fluid in his stomach do its thing. Heart dipping from that perilous voice.

Alarm bells ring like fucking war horns in Louis’ ears when he looks round to Edward stood with his phone mid air, haphazardly between his forefinger and thumb.

There was literally no way of telling anything. Whether he knew that he knew or not. Playing dumb was his only hope to staying safe long enough to get in that taxi - probably five minutes or so away - and getting home so he can take a shower, enjoy six or seven hours of zero sleep and figure out what the _fuck_ he’s going to do next.

 _What the fuck is he going to do next_.

“Why do I keep leaving that? Gosh,” Louis swallows as Edward pushed from the shadows, joining him under the glittering ceiling lights, “such a moron, honestly.”

Edward smiles, shakes his head. He may of shrugged but it was small and Louis can’t notice anything other than the space between them becoming tighter, Edward lowering his hand so it fell limp with his other.

“True, you’re quite careless my sweet,” He smelt pungent, something musky and addictive from his cologne mixed with a sharpness Louis couldn’t place.

There’s a moment were he just stares at Louis, not saying anything and not needing to, his eyes so horrifically accusing on their own. They were concerned with no one else, nothing else that wasn’t this boy before him, slipping over the features that were ill equipped to mask the chaotic panic bubbling underneath them.

“Are you going to take your phone little one?” His voice shouldn’t have made him jump like that, Louis flinching at the breath that was still a little smokey pooling over his face.

Edward was holding out his mobile, for how long he doesn’t know.

“Thanks…,” He hesitates, tries to calculate what’s too fast and too nonchalant a pace to retrieve it, “where, um, where was it?”

He still doesn’t break his ghastly stare when he smirks, settling into it like he knows Louis can’t stand it and answers smoothly, “Well when you were stood talking to Lucy, you forgot to pick it up before you… slipped out.”

He wished he’d never met this fucking monster.

Why did he have to walk across the school parking lot that day? Why couldn’t he have just ignored the shouting and the swearing like everybody else?

“I -oh,” Louis patted his phone on his open palm, ducking his head from the boy above for if he didn’t he would surely cry, “right. Silly me.”

“Very silly.”

His phone buzzed, he couldn’t afford to look.

“Say Louis, this party’s a little dry,” Louis stumbled backwards before his spine connected with the wall and he had to bend at an uncomfortable angle to look up at him, “we should just leave.”

With an arm bracketing one side of his face and the other hanging loose at his side, one wrong move and Edward would snatch him up and break him.

“I- well I ordered a-,”

“I haven’t had a drop all night, my car’s outside.”

Why didn’t he see this coming.

“No don’t be- it’s fine, really,” A nervous giggle wheezes out, looking to the door, “I don’t mind getting-,”

“You hate taxi cabs.”

He does. He does hate taxi cabs. And buses. Public transport as a general rule. _Bastard_. The brazen intellect he has underneath that nonchalant exterior was always going to be dangerous in the end. The ability he has to store information about people that most would deem irrelevant is petrifying. He hated it from the beginning; the arrogance that this boy possesses and shamelessly exudes was something Louis despised from day dot and he hates how it’d somehow morphed into becoming a key motivator in getting Louis to fall further down his rabbit hole. He hates that Edward knows so much, hates that he can read everything from nothing and has gotten to learn so much with so little.

But right now he hates himself a whole lot more.

“Come on princess, surely riding shotgun in my beamer is a lot more appealing than the backseat of an overused cabby.” He twisted his head, leaning into his brace. If anyone were looking at them it’d seem they were a second away from making out, crashing lips in a drunken teenage hormonal rage, Edward’s face inches away from Louis’, backed up rigid against the wall. Just where he wanted him.

Frozen from mortal fear, Louis couldn’t find it in himself to feign a smile. Not even a nod or any inclination of objection. He was only vaguely aware of the phone he still was gripping like it were his lifeline.

Edward’s little smirk was moulded around a small laugh, almost coy-like it was sickening as he pushed off from the wall and sighed, “Here, you can even take my keys,” He snaked two fingers into his front pocket, Louis eyeing up the outline of the metal item through the tight material, “go make yourself comfortable, I just need to-,”

Everything was brought to a stop by the shrill cry from a young girl thumping down the stairs, tears streaming down her face.

Louis knew that face. It was the girl he ran past earlier, on the third floor. She was with a boy-

“- _someone help!_ ” There he was, “Call an ambulance, _please_ , someone dial an ambulance-,”

They must’ve found Ben. It would be too much of a coincidence for it to be anything else.

“Actually, never mind,” Edward wrapped an entire hand around the crook of Louis’ elbow, yanking him to the side, “best not stick around if things are kicking off.”

“ _No Ed-_ ,”

Louis pulled back. He dug his heels in and was about to protest, could already feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, a sour taste to the inside of his cheeks when Edward’s hand tightened and his fingers found ground on a pressure point that had him falling forward in an instant.

He swung Louis round to his front, blocking him from anybody’s view - not that they cared, everyone was too bothered about tending to the distressed girl, listening to the description she gave of blood and broken bones.

Louis was certain his nightmares will consist of green eyes and Edward’s hand in a bone crushing hold from this day forth.

“Easy now Lou," Louis wriggled in his hold, despising how foul the nickname sounded on his tongue, “s’alright, just need to get you away from here.”

“No, _no_ ,” He whined, the physicality of his struggle kept to a controlled minimum by the broad expanse of Edward’s back and his supreme hold, “I don’t - we just. _Stop_. Edward you need-,”

The news of the attack upstairs had spread quickly because the music had been shut off completely, gaggles of hushed voices and confused ones throughout. If he wanted to cry for help now was the time to do it.

But Edward was two steps ahead of him. Always.

Just as the front door opened and he took a breath, a hand secured his throat and _squeezed_. He was pushed by the brick wall that was Edward over the instep and out onto the patio, his ankles stumbling awkwardly and banging painfully against the door frame. A few stragglers were stubbing out their cigarettes some distance to the left, confused expressions at the silence from the inside. They were too concerned with barging past the boys to catch the rough execution of their exit.

“Look-,” He doubled over in a coughing fit, trying not to fall from a little stumble, holding up a hand to the approaching boy, “ _-please_.”

Edward said nothing. Composure cool but eyes wild when closing the door behind the gaggle of people and swiftly throwing glances around the area to check they were indeed alone. He closed in on a disorientated Louis, seizing him by the arm again which earned him a croaked whine and took long strides down the steps.

“Let m- _ow, ow oh_ -,” Louis took three steps for Edward’s one, compensating for his lack of composure and shorter legs, “shit- _Edward!_ ,”

Louis tried grappling a hold of Edward’s strained forearm, but his fingers kept slipping and his legs were burning from the rush and he was being pulled at harsh angles his brain couldn’t do so many things at once. He flashed a desperate look back towards Lucy’s house to see the light on the third floor had been flicked on, various bodies piling up onto the landing.

It happened terrifyingly quick, the cold wind and hard rain clogging up the space of time it took for him to be escorted across the gravel, around the wall and out the end of the drive. Edward was nothing but a dark blur in front, shirt already damp and clinging to broad shoulders as he dragged Louis one armed into the road without looking back.

“Edward.” He wasn’t listening. Of course he wasn’t listening.

As if what was happening wasn’t frightening enough, the knowledge that this was only the beginning, got his insides anchoring for a blow. This and every insight to Edward’s ruthless temper that he’s so cleverly kept under the radar that he’s let slip, had all been a warm up. This was Edward calm. With Harry, you knew the second you’d crossed the line, there was nothing to hide - nothing Harry _needed_ to hide.

God. Oh _God_ , Harry.

Louis caught his feet, they were crossing the road or more walking down the centre of it, the silver moon being the only source of light bar the dim amber street lamps lined sporadically along the footpaths. He hissed as Edward yanked him a little faster, his feet stumbling and scraping across the rough, wet tarmac, puddles forming across dipped ground.

Ignoring the ripped skin that tortured the soles of his feet, he dug down and resisted, a _horrible_ sound screeching from his throat at the hold that was now burning his arm as the colossal weight behind it pulled and then gave.

“ _What-_ ,” Edward staggered back a fraction. He frowned, lips parted into a gentle ‘o’ as he swept his indignant disapproval over the boy with one look.

“Just _stop_ ,” Louis grit his teeth and yanked his arm away with a strength he thought he’d lost months ago, “stop this… please, please jus…,”

Catching his breath was a lot harder though, he was half doubled over, breath too sharp and dry, half holding out his arm to shield himself while rubbing over the red and white imprint of strong fingers on his skin.

“This, it all has to end, Edward. Tonight.”

Edward not moving instinctually was dangerous. Edward standing there, arms limp at his side was bad. If his body didn’t move before his brain had time to catch up that meant he was working you out, planning. And right now his focus was entirely on Louis, stood in the middle of the street, a product of every bad decision, every poor judgement Louis’d ever made.

“How much did you hear?”

Fuck.

Louis knew he knew, by now that much was obvious but. But hearing him say it.

“Why. Why did you do it?” Louis found stability in his feet, padding back a step with soaked socks over the coarse ground, not entirely sure his knees were as reliable.

“Mine first pup.”

His demand was like a fist to his gut, a punch to his jugular. Reminder of who’s boss. Edward thumbed the set of keys hanging from his fingers, the silver loop scraping against his rings as he stared him down.

Louis cringed at the feeling of rain splattering over his face, squinting through half lidded eyes as Edward remained stock still, “I heard enough to know Harry is a victim.”

Something shifted on Edward, not his feet but something. Louis pushed on.

“E-enough to know you need to be where he is right now.”

Dread was a steady drip in his veins. Besides every word that he said being the truth, Louis knew it would earn him a callous reaction. His stomach clenched, his teeth grit and jaw locked, willing his heart to simmer to a rhythm he could function at properly. Fear had his brain wired and his fingers numb. But unless that fear could turn back the clock then his time had come to face it. And quite literally. He was the only hope Harry had left, the only chance of things being set right. He needed to not be the quivering mess he’d become in Edwards’ presence and regain any morsel of the person he was before.

“You’re going to confess, Edward.” His fingers shook, they shook something terrible as they weaved into his pocket and pulled out his phone that was only just tucked in, “Why, because if you don’t then I will. I will do it for you a-and you can’t. Edward you can’t stop me. You can’t control any of this anymore.”

“What,” He ticked his head to the side, “do you think I’ve controlled, princess?”

“No you don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“That name, don’t call me that you’re not who I thought you were you- you’re not going to do this. Not now.” Louis shook his head, feeling the tickle of a water drop travel down the side of his face. “Not again.”

Edward grinned wide and _horrid_. Teeth sinking into his lower lip as he awarded himself a languid swoop of Louis’ body.

Louis shifted under his gaze,“Y-you know, you know what you’ve done.”

“No, _princess_ , I don’t. Tell me.”

“Oh my- you’re _sick_.”

“You apparently think you have it all figured out, so please, enlighten me.”

If it wasn’t a cemented fact that Edward could snap his neck before Louis could even wrap a hand around his, Louis’d strangle him.

“You’re the puppet master.” He was feeling so much, was sure of so much. There was a new found clarity but so much of _everything_ else that a person could possibly feel that came with it that he didn’t know how to express of it, “You framed Harry for Jasper’s attack when it- it was you, wasn’t it?”

Silence.

“Ben, you’ve used Ben for- I don’t know why or how but my party…” Louis unlocked his phone, the display lighting up soft features, drawing attention to his quivering lip that he’d been fighting to stifle this whole time, “I don’t want- I can’t even fucking say it.”

“Finish, what you started Lou.”

Louis’s insides twisted with hate. “Don’t _fucking_ call me that.”

Security was nothing but a distant memory, Edward’s eyes narrowing and his fists balling.

“You’re brave, you know.”

Louis scoffed, shook his head and a few drops fell onto the screen, “And you’re categorically insane.”

He was dancing with the devil. Temperament far out to what it should be in this situation, aware of how he was at the shallow end of hope being isolated in a desolate street with Edward. His fingers tapped on the screen, failing to do what he wanted because of it getting wet and the adrenaline had them shaking beyond control.

“You set it up.”

Edward was staring at him, face blank and expression withdrawn from emotion. His full lips were relaxed but closed. Eyes soft but fixed.

“Ryan,” Louis clarified, lifting his gaze from the screen to his return Edward’s cold glare, “you organised it but why? I can’t figure out why you would do-,”

The rain must’ve soaked beyond skin deep. Louis felt cold. So, so cold.

It made sense. The question mark that’s been hanging over his head for too long, the feeling that _something_ wasn’t adding up, that something was missing or he was overlooking a tiny detail - it all made so much sense.

“You knew Harry would react like that,” Louis hadn’t taken his eyes off of Edward but he only _saw_ him now he blinked away his daze, refocusing with sickening lucidity, “you knew how Harry felt about me, you knew how he would try and _kill_ anyone who tried to hurt me and in doing so, _oh my god._ Oh my- in doing so you knew it would scare me. If I saw Harry like that you knew it would make me think he was a monster, dangerous and violent and- you’ve wanted me to see him as this, this maniac who can’t control his anger-”

Louis didn’t catch it, but Edward’s lips pulled into a flicker of a smile. It was barely there. Just like any sense of remorse.

“-but Ben. _Ben._ ” Louis kept repeating the name in his head, his tongue growing thick, his capacity for the harrowing truth closing in on itself as he willed his aching heart to just keep going, “You controlled him, you used him because he owes you- he would do anything. You knew there was history between Harry and Ben because of Ryan, you knew he would react badly to anything that he- oh you bastard. The lake. His safe place. The night Harry caught us- oh God why did I ever. I knew. I _knew_ it was too coincidental for him to be out there so far. You wanted him to _fucking_ react, try and scare me again so I’d come running back to you oh my _god._ ”

Louis swivelled round, fingers at his temples as he deals with all the segments just falling into place. He was looking at the blackness of the street, as if it held answers, until he remembered who he’d just turned his back on and rotated full circle.

“He doesn’t even hurt you does he? Those bruises you showed me, all the injuries you’ve told me about, the white hot rage he - it doesn’t exist does it? It was a lie, an elusion to make out he was something he’s not. Something you are.”

Louis saw the smile. It sealed it.

He thought he’d seen insanity. But he’d known nothing, he’d been so ignorant, rendezvoused with nothing but a smoke screen up until this point.

Louis shook his head, ran a hand through his wet fringe, leaving it sticking up when pulled on the ends, “You’ve literally mirrored every part of yourself onto Harry. Everything you accuse him of being, everything you’ve moulded about him is- shit. _Shit_ you’re so- _you’re_ the deluded one!”

Edward’s silence was still able to curl its way up and around his spine, Louis could feel his own power returning with every word but Edward’s. Edward was still at large even with minimal effort.

He lifted the phone to show Edward the caller ID he’d dialled.

“Mrs Bundin. That’s who it was Edward,” His resolve nearly buckled when he saw the tension suddenly tighten in those shoulders, the fingers ceasing the fondling of the keys, “she told me about the drugs. The ones that could’ve _only_ come from his home. You told me he threatened suicide if you didn’t take his place…”

Louis’ voice gave out. His head was packed and his chest was tight. He closed his eyes, still holding out the phone. He didn’t need to finish the sentence anyway. You don’t need to tell a perpetuator the facts about the wrongs they’ve committed.

“Your own _Brother_ , Edward,” Louis croaked it out, unable to fight his tears any longer, “how could you do this to your own Brother?”

Edward eyed the phone. His knuckles white and hot from clenching too hard, teeth aching from his jaw being wired shut, eyes red and watery from ignoring the sting of rainwater. His shoulders were tight from fermented anger, an animosity that’d been building since the day Harry went behind his back and invited Louis to the orchestra; like acid burning, slicing and potent.

He crossed the distance between them and just as the call was answered and there was a muffled “ _Hello?_ ” rasped through the receiver he backhanded the device from his grasp and with his other landed a punch to the centre of Louis’ face.

The sound of the phone shattering against the pavement on the other side and Louis’ body colliding with the tarmac were mere seconds apart.

Edward licked his lips, lapping up the salty rainwater. There was something satisfying from the way his body had collapsed before him and he sighed, stepped forward. His chest heaved as he stared down at Louis rolling onto his side, “You’re a clever little thing.”

Edward thought he were pretty like that. Crumpled and beneath him. Smacked back into his place.

“But I have to say I’m growing tired my sweet, getting a little impatient from these dim witted rebellions you think you’re brave to muster, thinking you’re doing good when in reality you should just sit quiet and keep from nosing in people’s business like a good boy.” He stepped over the ground, shoes scraping and kicking up loose bits of tarmac as he came to stand over Louis’ body, so small from here, “I told you to trust me. Forget everything else, just trust me and keep your head down but you just never _listen_.”

Louis removed his hand from shielding his nose. The pain was unbearable, his vision blackened at the sides from an impact that felt like he’d been clapped by steel. He could taste metal. Blood. Whether it was pooling from inside his mouth or trickling from his nostrils he couldn’t tell. Either way it felt like his skull was concave. Felt like his front teeth were so bruised that a sharp intake of breath would uproot them.

He couldn’t stay down. He had to move. Despite the thought that another singular punch from Edward would render him unconscious for sure, he had to try.

And Edward just watched, evil lacing his veins and padding out the space where his heart should be, blackening the areas of his mind where his conscience would lay. He peered down at Louis trying to push himself up with uneasy arms, bare elbows grazed and quivering. He let him get an inch or two off the ground before he kicked a foot at his wrist. It gave way instantly, Louis slapping back onto the ground with a cruel sound.

He bent down, crouching directly over Louis’ shoulders and rolled him onto his back, reaching a hand out to brush the hair from his forehead, rain dripping from his fringe with a soft pit-pat onto Louis’ face.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, princess,” He coaxed him with a small smile, watching his own petting, “your disobedience could’ve honourable if it were worth it.”

If he could, Louis would spit in his face.

“You know, I had moments of madness,” He scoffed, half smiling like he were reflecting on something even half as pleasant, “thought I was beginning to actually care for you. When you were anchoring after my dick that night I thought maybe I could get used to this. But. Then you let me down, unbeknown to me it would be the first of many, and you went after him and all delusions I had of us ever being… well.”

He couldn’t say he were surprised. The fact that it’d all been an act was a credit to his already polished stage skills but the reality behind it - the fact he was doing it all just because he could, just to get one over on his ill Brother and take something he cared for dearly just to fuck him over and watch him fall apart. Yeah, that was a pinch to his heart.

“You would’ve been a good fuck.”

Louis felt helpless underneath him, face numb but hot. A contrast to the rest of his body with cold clothes, wet and sticking to his body painted to the cold tarmac.

“Pretty mouth and supple body. Virgins always submit so nicely,” He shivered when Edward splayed a palm on his head, fingers building a slow rhythm as if it were supposed to elude comfort, “ _god_ just that is making me angry.”

Against his higher sense, Louis reached up and encircled Edward’s wrist, stilling his movement. Louis picked up on his past tense, speaking how he _would_ have been a good fuck, like it’s a shame it’s not going to happen. Not that Louis was concerned about that. More of the reason _why_.

“What are you-,” Edward’s eyes narrowed, the smile melting off his face as he tilted it to the side, waiting for him to finish, “please, Edward.”

“Sooner or later, you were going to push too many buttons. I’m only human Louis, I have limits and you knew- didn’t I tell you? I warned you. Set it out nice and clear yet you kept yielding a blade to my forgiveness.” Fingers curled and gripped the roots of soft, damp hair. Edward was silent as he _pulled_ Louis’ body to a standing. He ignored the wail of pain that tore through the silent crispness of the dead of night, “It wasn’t going to take long for me to draw a gun.”

Louis’ mouth hung open, neck strained and bared as he gulped down mouthfuls of water mixed with his own tears. His eyelids blinked rapidly, a bright light - probably headlights, almost blinding the right side of his face as he fought against the urge to shut them completely. There was a sharp intake of breath from his side before his forehead connected with roof of the car and his body fell limp.

 

*

 

Seconds had turned into hours, hours and turned into days and days had turned into a countdown to his release. He’d been told three days ago about how he was looking at a couple months at _least_ in this joint and further investigation would set out the specifications to his punishments and limitations to his freedom.

It’s a sensitive topic, mental illness. When you’re branded with one you may as well walk around with a sandwich board naming the symptoms and possible triggers and effects of whatever it is because that’s all people are going to see anyway. But slap on the ‘institutionalised’ bonus sticker then you suddenly upgrade to social outcast.

Criminally insane, is what Louis called it.

Which, is what he would be. If he were. If he had actually done what people keep telling him to admit to.

It’d been four days since Louis’d been here and told him that this was it. Unless he confesses and owns it, then there’s no room for him here. And Harry had never wanted to be so guilty before in his entire life. For once, he wishes he had been the person behind it. He’d admit it and he’d still have Louis. He’d still have his disapproving glares and his sharp tongue and that giggle that made his tummy dip in the most addictive way.

But, he just couldn’t do it. This was too bad to have on his back. He couldn’t admit to a crime so horrendous that he had nothing to do with.

And so here he still is. Spread eagle on his bed - _the_ bed, in the room he’d called his home for the past two weeks, staring at the same spotless ceiling and the clinical white walls that encased him and made every part of him, every thought he has, feel dirty. Alone.

He didn’t want company, though. Just wanted Louis. But now he’ll never get him. He’s simultaneously saved and destroyed him in one hour and now he has no idea what to do with what’s left. If there is anything. If his own Brother thinks he’s better off dead, then, what does that leave? His parents? Harry rolled onto his side, his stomach clenching at the thought of his Mother, her beautiful, beautiful face. The nostalgia of her voice, her soft hands and voice. The tears she _fought_ not to shed when she saw her own Son having to be restrained.

His Father had always been the back bone. No emotion. Always as if he expected it. Even he was visibly shaken when he was taken down.

He didn’t have friends in school, not really. The image he built for himself was never one that would attract people in the masses. Edward told him it’s best that way - better to be a loner and an outcast with his ‘condition’. The less people he gets close to the better. He’ll only end up hurting them and he curled up, bringing his knees to his chest with a muffled whine when he realised how that statement had never been truer than now.

Gosh, he misses him.

His precious little baby. His delicate ways and mannerisms and his tongue that counteracted _all_ of that with unfathomable wit that could crumble a grown professional.

A bitter sweet thought danced through his mind, which got Harry uncurling a little bit, his heart rate ticking over at a higher pace for a nicer reason for once. The compass would’ve gone by now. It’d been two weeks so the temporary ink would’ve washed off, but the thought of it, the memory of uncovering it got the corners of his mouth shifting.

The memory of what happened after though, got the weight between his thighs stirring.

But he couldn’t think about that. He hadn’t touched himself for so long, hadn’t wanted to. All his libido had drained since two weeks ago and any spark of it with the erotic image his mind conjured of sticky wet lips and gentle hands was eradicated when he rolled over onto his stomach, consequently squashing any roused muscle between his legs.

He smushed his face into the pillow, inhaling the weird smell of lavender and something akin to bleach when his door unlocked and there were two knock shortly after. Which Harry thought was sort of the wrong order to ask permission to enter a room, but. He lifted his head, forgetting to clear the rasp from his voice when he answered groggily, “Yes.”

The door opened and when he saw the person appear, if it weren’t for the mild tranquilliser keeping any physical instincts at bay, he would’ve leapt off the bed and crashed into her arms.

“Harry, my dear.”

“ _Mrs-_ ,” He cleared his throat now, shuffling to a seated position, “Mrs Bundin, Elizabeth, sorry.”

“How’re you feeling?”

Harry had to clutch the sheets to keep from swaying, apparently having sat up a little too quickly, “Fine. Thank you.”

She closed the door quietly, nodding to someone on the other side before it shut completely and graced him with a warm smile, a signature that suited no one better. She’d only just been here four days ago, when they uncovered the pills. Harry’s next appointment wasn’t due until another two days. And his three day physical was completed yesterday so she really had no reason to be here.

“Good, that’s good.” She readjusted the pen hanging around her neck, removed her glasses let and them hang with it as she shuffled over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, “Especially with Room 5 kicking up such a fuss. Hear he’s been causing quite a distress with you.”

Harry shrugged, looked away for a second, “It’s - he can’t help it. I remind him of his friend, his delusions control him.”

“But he got physical with you?’

Harry hummed, distracted.

He jumped when her voice was close to his ear and her fingers where barely even a presence on his bare arm, “I’m proud of you.”

His expression must’ve said it all because she tacked on with a fond squeeze, “For not retaliating.”

“Thanks, um,” He tried mirroring her kind smile, felt like he came off more fake than genuine, “thank you. I have no room for judgement, it would be hypocritical to do so.”

There was something strange about her. The way she was looking at him just then, like she was waiting for him to say that, as if there was a trigger word and he’d just activated it. He found himself staring at her but leaning away at the same time, simultaneously waiting for something but not wanting to be close enough to react.

“What…” Of course there’s just the possibility that he’d being stupid and paranoid courtesy of drugs, “are you doing here, Elizabeth? May I ask.”

The hand on his arm remained, she patted it. Then again as she gave him a sympathetic smile. At least he thought that’s what it was.

“I have news, sweetness. I have news for you.”

“Good, news?”

_Don’t get your hopes up, don’t get you hopes up, don’t get y-_

“-Yes.”

What.

“Well, it’s bitter sweet.”

Oh.

“It has a tender kiss but a sting in it’s tail.”

Like Louis. _Exactly_ like Louis, actually. Harry rolled his lips to stop from smiling.

“Okay.” He was still gripping the sheets, “should I be sitting down for this or?”

When she chuckled Harry did too, and it hurt because he realised he hadn’t laughed in so long and it felt weird to have his emotion peaked to such elation that he kind of felt guilty, simmering instantly to a tight smile.

“Darling, my darling boy you made me second guess my professionalism, the minute you walked through my door all those years ago I knew,” She squeezed his forearm one last time before brandishing a finger towards him softly, “I just knew I’d grow far too attached to you and all these years later I’ve proved myself right.”

Harry smiled politely, didn’t know what else he should or could do. He was trusted and with trustworthy company, he was safe and felt it. That was enough. She knew that was enough.

“Harry your charges have been lifted.”

_Did she j-_

“-are you,” He rose like a thorn had stabbed his backside, “ _pardon?_ ”

“Yes, yes,” She looked like it was her that was being cleared off all charges, like it was her life that had suddenly taken an expected u-turn, “darling you have to keep calm, please, they let me tell you this because they believe I can keep your sense of calm so please don’t prove them otherwise.”

“But you- okay, yes of course I won’t, Im fine. But-,” He pointed to the door, turned to it, then looked back to Mrs Bundin and diverted his finger likewise, “how have they? They said I’d be here for months, Jasper- he had sworn it was me, he had it down, with the police - formal...,”

It wasn’t much sense, but there wasn’t much to not understand. She expected such. She held out a palm, smiling and nodding, “Correct, you’re right, yes and it’s wonderful and you deserve to be freed of false claims. But that’s not the part I need you to stay calm about.” She smiled, but this time it wasn’t sympathetic or even kind, more testing, unsure as she beckoned for him to sit down.

“It’s your Brother, Harry, ” Harry’s bum had barely touched back down when he felt the urge to shoot straight back up, he froze in his seat, tendons in his arms pulling as his hands anchored him, “some things have come to light. One of these things being something you should’ve told us the moment it happened, the rest, I regret to say, you are or have been, thoroughly unaware of.”

“I’m,” Harry didn’t want to say the wrong thing, caught between ecstasy and confusion and an odd sort of dread that got his nerves tingling and his mind working over time, “…I’m not following.”

She sighed.

And that’s the last thing Harry hears clearly before a cloak of red mist fogged his vision after her next sentence.

“Edward has been detained for Jasper’s attack. Harry it’s looking like he set you up…”

He stared, his physical being looking very attentive but the words that spilt from her mouth were just an underwater muffle. He didn’t need to hear it and perhaps, his body was kicking up his defence mechanisms and stopping him from hearing because he shouldn’t. That sentence alone cut straight through his chest, tears from anger, betrayal, too much pain, simmering behind his wide eyes.

Edward had framed him.

His Brother had framed him.

He had gone out and done that. And then done that.

“…if it weren’t for the taxi driver, then Louis would’ve probably been a lot worse a state…”

And he told him to kill himself.

He would’ve let him _take his own life_  knowing full well- wait.

“Uh, sorry what do you mean -Louis? Louis’ in a state? What’s wrong, what’s happened?”

Mrs Bundin stopped mid story, having to backtrack to the part he’d plucked out, “Yes, erm, because of Edward sweetie. Did you understand what I said?”

Emotions were riding high, but anger- If that meant what he thought it meant. The calm he’d vowed to would be broken. He swallowed the last shred of composure he had and turned his head to look at her properly, “I didn't actually - no. Sorry.”

But she was far too experienced in her field, too familiar with Harry and his responses and triggers to know to delve into this right now. “Okay, I think we should get you out of here first.” She dusted off her trousers, rocking up to a stand and took a sharp inhale through her teeth, “Yes, come on. Let’s get you _dischar_ -,”

“-What’s happened to Louis?” Harry had followed her every move, meticulously studying, knowing her just as well, “Elizabeth please.”

Would it cost her her job if she was caught offering to drive him to see him after the discharge? Yes.

Was she throughly aware of the consequences if his reaction deemed violent, extreme actions? Yes.

Did she think either of the above would happen? No.

“Harry I’m going to lose my job over you boys you know that,” She closed her eyes as he stood up and felt two warm palms encase her on either shoulder, soft and never anything but.

“You have my word.”

She opened her eyes, she knew what that meant and her heart had already made her mind up five minutes ago even if he hadn’t said it.

"Please."

“We get the paperwork finished, you answer Stein’s queries, you accept the course of medication and _any_ other stipulation he offers and you exit without any questions about Louis or Edward, is that clear?”

“Absolutely.”

She covered his wide hands, removing them and holding them between their bodies. She paused, staring at them then back up towards those grand eyes, so kind and so misunderstood. But made sure he understood. And it was never a doubt he wouldn’t, not with Louis. She’d listened to his adoration for six years to know he’d be anything but cooperative.

“Alright then, I’ll make a few calls.”

 

*

 

_-Two nights previous-_

 

Edward knew he’d made a rookie error half way across town.

It didn’t matter his car was parked half way across the path and that his registration plate was blocked, he left the fucking phone. He’d left Louis’ phone smashed up on the path for someone to toddle along and find.

Idiot.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel and he growled, twisted his wrist and then slammed his hands down, “ _Fuck!_ ”

Louis, curled up in the passenger seat, recoiled even further. Something that wasn’t even possible, whimpered at his outburst. He'd only come round a couple of minutes ago and had no idea how long they'd been driving. He thinks he recalls seeing the old ballet school a pass not long ago, so they must be still in town.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck you’re a fucking idiot.” Edward balled up his fist and slammed it into the steering wheel, “Such a cunt.”

Louis breathed his name when his other fist balled up the front of his t-shirt, a little blotched from he blood that had dripped from his nose, and pulled him with that one arm so he could lean across easily and spit into his ear, “See what you made me do you little shit? See what happens when you try get clever?”

His breath was still laced with smoke and Louis turned away from it, away from the voice.

“This is all your fault, sweet pea,” Louis’ stomach lurched when they took a sharp corner at considerable speed, the vehicle chugging for a second in too lower gear, “all of this mess, it could’ve been avoided if you’d just _listened_ to me.”

Louis' left ear was clogged, his left temple was sensitive to the touch and his nose felt separate from his body. He hadn’t looked in the mirror and he didn’t want to.

At this point, talking was futile. There was no reasoning to be done, no amount of conversation was going to stop any of the decisions already made and rooted in Edward’s one track mind.

“Do you know what?” Edward almost threw Louis back into the seat, “I'm sort of starting to regret following you up that night. Ryan was super horny, really actually into you and was talking about how nice it would feel to have you stretch around him,” He laughed, shoved the gear stick into fifth and floored the pedal on the open road ahead, “yeah. Maybe should’ve just let him have his way. Think he would’ve forgotten the deal and everything, fucked you and left satisfied rather than disabled and half blind.”

“You’re a _terrible_ , _terrible_ p-perso-,”

“-oh don’t be so fucking sensitive.”

“I can't b- how could you just-,”

“-you were a second away from letting me sink my dick inside you so hop off that horse right now princess.”

It was there. _Stuck,_ on the tip of his tongue, ready and loaded at the back of his throat to make a comment about how what him and Harry had done. A moment of absolute madness made him want to. But he kept it to himself, the blood on his shirt and the constant low frequency beep in his left ear a reminder of what happens when he upsets Edward.

He didn’t know where they were going, where Edward was planning on taking him or more worryingly, what he planned on doing with him. His telling choice of wording earlier still rang through his mind, how he spoke like this was all coming to an end. What, was coming to an end.

Louis repositioned in his seat and caught his head on the back rest, he hissed and Edward groaned, “I’ve been kind enough to keep you conscious. Stop whining or I’ll put that mouth of yours to good use.”

Louis’ laboured breath hurt, fighting to keep the pained little noises that came with surpassing his anguish. He gulped, too many times, mouth dry. Sat up slowly, more carefully than before and tucked himself up in the seat.

“Good boy.”

Two weeks ago, he were in this exact same position. Two weeks ago, he thought things were as bad as they could possibly be.

“Where are we going?” He was surprised his voice came out steady, if at all.

“Can’t have you running your mouth to anyone, Louis.”

Louis side eyed the speedometer hitting 98, winced when it hurt his eyes to strain like that, “You can’t do this, Edward please just stop for a moment and think ab-,”

“I’ve thought about this for a long time Louis. Thought about the slim chances of you overstepping the boundaries and what I’d have to do to compensate.”

“You - _no_ , y-you don’t have to do anything,” He was so tired of crying, so tired of feeling this weak and susceptible, “this can be sorted, nothing is beyond compromise, I promise you- _ah_ ,”

Edward’s hand gripped Louis' thigh, cutting him off. His palm spread across the top and fingers _dug_ into the flesh either side, making it easy for him to crush whatever was in-between. Louis squeaked, tried working his fingers off, picking at them to ease up through a concession of noises.

“You remember strike one? Seems like a distant memory now doesn’t it.”

Louis was growing desperate, Edwards’ hand travelling further up his thigh, ungiving in pressure.

“Think I’ve been more than fair to you,” His hand reached the fuller flesh at the top of his thigh and hummed in satisfaction at how Louis squirmed in his grasp, knowing he didn’t dare deny him access to anything, “like I said, you would’ve been a good fuck.”

Louis hands were hovering over Edward’s, frozen and waiting.

He screwed his eyes shut and bit the inside of his cheeks so hard it drew blood when he slipped it between the highest point of his thighs and cupped his crotch, fingers covering his mound while he ground his heel.

He knew better than to make a noise.

“Almost making me wanna fuck you again baby,” He clamped down on his lip, making a lewd sound as his hand drove into his groin further, fingers slipping past his taint and pressing into the material covering his hole, “ _shit_.”

He removed it though, quick as he slowed for a junction, changing the gear and tutting to himself, saying how he didn’t really have the appetite for it, would only waste time and they were twenty minutes out.

The only place Louis could piece together that was roughly that amount of time away was the twins’ home. But surely. No why would Edward take them there. In his paranoid state about leaving Louis’ phone, thinking this would somehow mark the path to their location, he would avoid his own home at all costs.

“…after all, it was you who called me poetic.”

Louis’ brain flipped. Had he been talking this entire time? He sank into his seat, coiling his arms around his legs and blinked repeatedly, keeping his eyes on the long country road unwinding in the headlights, “W-what?”

“You ripped me apart when I made out I had a journal. Seems only fit.”

“W-what does?”

Edward landed him a look of mild confusion, mixed with an amusement that Louis would’ve otherwise branded charming, the weird tilt to his mouth and the furrow of his brow made his features soft and boyish, “Sweetheart it’s his safe place. Do I have to explain everything to you?”

Yes.

_Please God yes because what the fuck-_

Louis stuttered, “Th-the river… I- I don’t…”

“… yes.” He was enjoying a little too much, Louis already feeling like he was going to throw up when he reopened his mouth. “Water washes away fingerprints. So when they find you, when Harry gets wind of your death and where you was found, oh fuck the _tragedy_ of it. It’ll be so great. So ironic, that you were found dead in his _safe space._ Kind of ties it altogether doesn’t it?”

Louis’ eyes were dry. His body shutting down already. He wasn’t sure how long it was before Edward spoke again, but when he did he closed his eyes and all he saw was Harry’s face staring back at him.

“See it as killing two birds with one stone, because he won’t need any prompting from me to take his own life when he hears about that princess."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All is revealed now and it feels so good. I hope many of you are familiar with the behavior of psychopaths and are able to identify with Edward's character. It's what I aimed for.
> 
> Penultimate chapter. Thanks for all of you who stuck with it this far. I cannot believe it's taken this long to complete. I'll be finishing up Sunday.

Lucy turned full circle, scanning above the many heads of the gathered bodies, looking for that one person in particular. She did it again. And then again, in fact she never stopped turning and weaving through the masses until she came to the conclusion he just was not there. And that, in itself, was curious.

She was thumbing at her mobile screen, head down when someone clumsily staggered past and shoved her shoulder.

“ _Hey e-_ oh, Liam,” Voice raising several octaves with her sense of hope, “hey have you seen Louis?”

Hiccuping, then swallowing for good measure, Liam considered his answer, looking like he was really thinking about it before shaking his head and answering with a drawn out, “No?”

“No?” She squinted when he did, “Are you sure because you don’t sound sure.”

He shook his head again.

“No, you’re not sure?”

A girl rushed between them crying on the phone to somebody about needing to get a lift as soon as possible and Liam only just stepped back in time, lifting his glass of water in the air to her passing form, “Be gone with ya!”

“Liam. Focus, please, Louis.”

“Louis Tomlinson.”

“Yes.”

“No, no sightings mate.”

Lucy dropped both her hands, clutching her phone a little too tightly. Something settling in her sober stomach that didn’t feel right at all.

“He’s just, he’s vanished. It’s a bit weird him leaving without saying goodbye,” She sighed, staring at the people gathering out on the porch and began biting the inside of her cheek, “you know?”

Liam did know. And he nodded, motioning to the opening of the staircase, “Well, yeah, but have you-,” he hiccuped again, wincing at the bubble of air pinching in his throat, “-upstairs. Have you even looked upstairs? Someone’s passed out or something, you know what he’s like he’s probably having a good ol’ snoop.”

“No, I’ve been stood here since Alyssa came down screaming. I would’ve seen him pass by.”

She was still staring out at the people, mind elsewhere but thoroughly perplexed.

“Wait,” She shot out her hand, Liam pausing his glass half way to his mouth in anticipation of whatever was coming, “you know who it is right?”

“Who?”

“Upstairs… the person.”

Liam frowned over the rim of his glass, breath fogging it up little before replying after a beat, “Should I?”

She watched him gulp down a healthy mouthful before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Ben. Ben Crosby.”

It was a charm Liam had actually swallowed by that point or else Lucy would’ve been covered.

“ _-what?_ ”

“Yeah. Weird isn’t it? He’s a fucking house,” She shook her head, cheeks puffing from the seventh sigh in the past two minutes, “didn’t think someone could pluck an eyelash from him never mind break a bone.”

Liam wasn’t sober. Far from it. But unfortunately the last time he’d been inebriated of late around his nearest and dearest had proven to be a time his nearest of his dearest - Louis - had needed him the most and he wasn’t going to fail him again. Through his drunken haze, right then, staring at Lucy staring back out at the crowds again, his brain did a weird thing and connected a few neurological dots that got some of that fog lifting.

“Holy shit.”

His glass was discarded on the nearest flat surface available, turning instantly to shove roughly through the crowds still milling around the bottom of the stairs. He grunted and pardoned and slung a few curses to the less obliging individuals as he wove his way upwards, hand gripping the banister when he could, sliding along the wallpaper one minute then ducking under an arm the next.

“-Liam!,”

He left Lucy. No time to explain really, not at he moment. He just prayed to whatever higher entity or the Gods of karma that were well in debt to him that they’d pull through on some sort of mini miracle right now and Ben would be conscious.

Rounding the third floor, where the commotion was said to be, he realised he wasn’t sure of _what_ he was thinking was even happening. He just worked off facts - stuff Louis’d told him the other day, when it all came out. That, and raw gut instinct.

Edward Styles has grown very close to Louis recently. Edward very much wants to be in a relationship with Louis. Edward is notorious for having a less than clean record of violence. Edward does not settle for less. Edward does not like Ben Crosby for obvious reasons. Edward was the last person he saw Louis with this evening. Ben has now been attacked. Louis is missing. And Edward isn’t anywhere to be seen either. Liam is the only person who knows about Louis and the twins’ involvement. He can’t fuck this up.

“Liam!” He didn’t know this guy, didn’t know why or how he knew his name. But the looks of him he was friendly enough, with a double denim ensemble that made his eyes cross, “thank _fuck_ didn’t you say you were going to study medicine?”

He may have done. After a few whiskey’s he’d tell anyone whatever they wanted to hear so it wouldn’t have surprised him if he had made up an entire false background to someone he didn’t know before tonight.

“Uh, yeah.” Liam avoided his eye, “That’s uhm- is he…?”

He motioned loosely towards Ben, sat against a wall and groaning. Oh thank God. Liam silently rejoiced at the fact he was awake, not listening to the rest of the drivel this denim boy was telling him, instead nodding and smiling what he hoped was politely as he stepped around him and towards Ben.

“ _Shit…_ ” When he got closer though, he kneeled down next to the rugby player and Lucy’s words echoed in the back of his mind, “holy shit, mate can you hear me?”

Edward was something else.

Liam shushed denim boy's incessant flapping and focused on the boy before him.

His jaw had visible and vibrant bruising, his nose was bust and there was dried blood down his chin and neck. It looked as though he were clutching his mid section, probably a bruised or broken rib if he had to guess.

His head lolled around to face Liam’s voice, shifting the pillow he’d been given to support it and opened his eyes slowly, blinking them shut and hissing. Liam froze as the hand holding his stomach tensed, something must’ve pulled.

“Okay easy mate, it’s alright, you’re safe,” He hovered his hands up and over his body, not entirely sure where he should put them. Eventually opted for his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as he tried to reassure him again until he started to relax a little.

“Payne…”

“Yeah, yeah I know you’re going to be in a _lot_ of pain right now Ben,” Liam ignored another wave of nausea as he looked back up to his face and saw his bared teeth were stained with blood too, “j-just have to, breath. Keep breathing, the medics are on their way.”

“N-,” Ben hissed a little again, eyebrows stitching together, “no - _Liam Payne_.”

He rushed out his name, breathing proving to be too painful never mind speaking.

Liam nodded, “Oh right, yeah, yes that’s me,” He patted his shoulder a little more forcefully than he intended, “you recognise me?”

“L-louis’… friend.”

He nodded again, feeling like he didn’t have to even ask to get the answers he wanted, “…correct. He’s gone missing mate. You know where he is?”

Liam squeezed his shoulder again when Ben tried to sit up a little but made a God awful sound that got denim boy and another boy who’d joined him in the doorway to turn around and pause the conversation they were having.

“Police… _tell_ them-,” It was important. Whatever it was, for him to be fighting to speak like this it was important and Liam tried his best to understand him first time round so he didn’t have to bare repeating it again, “Lake-…”

He was trying to breath, chest rising and falling so harshly it couldn’t be doing his ribcage that was so obviously shattered any good whatsoever. Liam felt hopeless. Torn between wanting to put and end to his suffering and walk away but needing to know _what the fuck is going on_.

“Alright, that’s great. Lake? They’re at a lake?”

His mind tried to circuit. Fill in the blank pieces. There were three lakes he could think of. Two were at least 30 or 40 miles out and wouldn’t be convenient to go to, nor could he understand what significance they held. The other was closer, not too far from their school actually. Maybe a forty-five minute drive away? It was desolate and really out of-

Liam’s heart jumped.

“Sale Water Lake?”

“Quick- If Edward… if he’s taken, h-him…” Ben turned his head back, pushing the pillow further up, “-s’where they’ll b-be.”

It took Liam three seconds to thank him, turn on his heels and inform denim boy who looked like he’d been watching him this entire time, looking like a dear in headlights when he approached, to go fetch him a glass of water with a straw and some more damp cloths.

Watching him run off he tried steadying his hands, head thumping from an impending hangover and too much alcohol when he patted his pockets for his phone. Running his hand through his hair he cursed and pushed back out of the room, shouldering off his leather jacket, the air far too thick all of a sudden.

He apologised for nudging past someone when a small girl did the exact same to him, nearly knocking the wind out of him despite her size and consequently pushing him back onto the landing.

She was crying, frantic and - _Lucy._

“ _Liam_ , fuck, Liam.”

“Yes,” He looked to his jacket that she just trampled over, “Lucy we need to-,”

“I’ve called the police, Liam, it’s _Edward_ , Edward Styles?” She had a hand on his chest, fingers almost tightening on his t-shirt as her eyes were wild and searching his own, “He’s taken Louis, the taxi driver, he saw everything and I’ve called the police I don’t-,”

“ _-woah, woah_ , alright - yeah, calm down,” He covered her hand, guided her into the nearest room and away from the prying ears of stragglers who had been drawn to her newly found panic, “what taxi driver? What are you talking about?”

“The taxi driver. He- he was outside. He pulled up and saw Edward hit Louis’ head on the car.”

Whether it was the alcohol or shock or a sickening mix of the two, Liam had to brace a hand on the door frame, letting her words sink in.

“He took him Liam. I don’t know why but I-,”

“-wait, you’re absolutely sure- how do we know it was even them?”

“The driver, he described their outfits,” She was motioning something with her hands, “and he took his registration plate, before he had chance to pull away he took it down and he saw all the lights on in here and put two and two together and so we just- I called the police and told them everything and they’re coming here but I don’t know why they- why aren’t they going to-,”

Liam shushed her, brushed the sides of her face in what was supposed to be a soothing gesture but perhaps wasn’t so pleasant with his own clammy palms.

“Look, look- We’re going to find him, okay? I think I know where they are.” He gulped down at some weird sensation akin to his old friend nausea before continuing, hands balanced on Lucy’s slender shoulders, “where’s your phone?”

 

*

 

_-Present day-_

 

He didn’t know what to expect when he finally saw him.

Physically, was one thing. Mrs Bundin having skipped over the abuse he’d suffered loosely during her debrief in the car ride over, not wanting to cause any more anger or panic to rise to Harry’s already unstable surface. But mentally. He didn’t know if Louis even wanted to see him. Given the fact he would be fully aware of Edward’s wrong doings now and how he manipulated the arrest - something Mrs Bundin definitely didn’t skirt around - where was the guarantee that he even wanted anything to do with either of the Brothers after all of this?

It was that doubt, that was clinging like a disease to the inside of his stomach as he stepped out the car, head spinning because of the tranquilliser that still remained in his blood.

“Harry.”

Her voice lifted lightly in the soft breeze, right over the roof of the car. He turned to it, squinting.

“Harry, please remember what I said.”

How could he forget.

As much as he wanted to see him, as much as his entire being, every cell in his body was dragging his feet without his brain’s permission already up the drive, he dare not even touch him. He wasn’t quite sure he was even ready to see him. But he wanted to. And for once, he’s going to indulge in what he wants.

He was at the door without even realising he’d covered so much ground, knuckles rapping a heavy beat on the oak, before registering the hurried crunching of Mrs Bundin’s feet hot on his tail.

The door pulled open to a petite lady, brunette with a tanned complexion. Harry knew those kind eyes far too well.

“Mrs Tomlinson.”

“Johannah, please,” She regarded Harry with much warmth, eyes leaving his for only a second to smile at Mrs Bundin before she was stepping aside to let him in, “come on in.”

“Thank you,” Harry tried to make himself small, something that was impossible as his broad shouldered self ushered through the doorway and into the front lobby he’d only seen once before.

The memory of his party lingered in the air, the consequences of it. It was surreal. And Harry experienced delusion every other day, was more than familiar with the feeling of things not feeling real. But this.This was different and it hurt.

He didn’t mean to, but he’d allowed himself to wander a little around the foyer, arching his neck to peer up and around his surroundings, the soft exchange of conversation simply background noise as he surveyed the family portraits arranged in a sporadic pattern on the far wall - all in black and white.

“Harry?”

“ _Yes-_ ,” He whipped round, feeling guilty for even breathing, “sorry. Yes, Johannah.”

“He’s upstairs.”

“But-,”

“-Elizabeth and I need to talk, you go ahead.”

Mrs Bundin had made the call. She had expected Harry’s arrival. But she hadn’t told him what exactly had been said. Obviously enough to prompt her to trust him this much already, the first time of even meeting him and with that thought, he didn’t want to push it. Wasn’t going to jeopardise that tiny bit of free reign because of his stupid insecurities.

“Thank you,” He nodded, thanked her again and swung himself onto the bottom set of steps when a shrill voice cut him off instantly.

“ _Har-_ wait, hold on!”

His knuckles turned white on the banister as he pulled himself to a stop, heart hammering against his ribcage at the possibilities. What had he done wrong? Was he too quick? Did he forget to say something, do something? Or was she going to warn him about something else. Maybe Louis was in a really bad state and he needed to be prepared. This was heavy enough he had no idea how he’d deal with a bruised and battered Louis, knowing exactly who was responsible.

He said nothing. Opened his mouth to, but nothing but dry air escaped, lips twitching and eyes wide staring at his Mother who had a hand held out.

“Steady on there boy,” When her voice turned fond over fearful it was beyond confusing, “we take our shoes off in this house.”

And right. Okay.

“Oh, yes, of course,” It was quite humorous how fast Harry doubled over to push off his boots, “where shall I, uhm, put them?”

His enquiry peaked as soon as his eyes fell on the shoe rack, to which he waited politely anyway for Johannah to motion behind herself, then took his boots for him, holding them with two hands and placing them neatly next to a pair of scuffed adidas trainers and a turquoise pair of ballerina pumps.

Thanking her for what felt like the eighty fifth time he continued upstairs.

He took two steps at a time, feeling weird in skinny jeans again as he moved so quickly. Frowning down at his legs as he allowed himself that thought another one occurred to him quite dumbly soon after. He had no idea which room was Louis’.

“Intelligent, Styles.” His voice vibrated deep in his throat, mumbling to himself as he scanned up the far hallway, “Brilliant.”

Moving further onto the landing, he noted how the floorboards creaked under his weight. Louis’ family home was much more modern than his own, the design must be far more early 21st century or late 20th with it’s sleek lines and simplistic, white interior. He padded down the first hallway, to the long window at the far end which looked out over the side gardens, and watched his socked feet shift across the pale grey wood.

On reflection one could say it suited Louis quite well. The high ceilings with the fitted spotlights, the clean white walls and minimal fuss. Everything was neat. Everything had a place and a purpose.

Harry ran his fingers across the impeccable plastering on the walls, blinking up to the abstract art just above the junction between the first two doors.

He thinks he might like this house much more than his own. Where there’s too many rooms, too much fuss. Too much money and history. His was pretentious, traditional and almost royal. Whereas this, this was grounded, modest and functional. A home.

“Who are you?”

Harry flung back from peering inside that first room, realising the decor was too pink and feminine and glittery, to be Louis’. Turning round though, his eyebrows met his hairline when he believed he may have just identified who the fairy room may belong to.

“H-hello,” He smiled slowly at first, then fast and almost cartoon like, “my name’s Harry.”

Harry has little experience with children, his family may be large but he has little contact with those who aren’t immediate, so he’s never gotten to indulge his love for these tiny humans.

“You want Louis, don’t you?”

Crouching down, he nods, “What’s your name beautiful?”

She has to be one of the twins Louis has spoken of, couldn’t be more than eight or nine, “Phoebe.”

Harry gasped softly, “That’s actually one of my favourite names.”

“I prefer Daisy.”

Both of them held a breath and turned at that third voice. Harry standing straight back up as he looks to the boy who’s appeared at the opening of the corridor.

“You’re so funny Louiiiis,” Her tone was meant to be mocking, but it was futile on such a young voice, giggling as she turned around to hug her brother around the middle, squishing into a hoodie that was _far_ too big for him, “you love me more I know you do.”

Louis disguised a small wince at her embrace, but Harry caught it. “Okay well keep it hush hush.”

He laughed, smile not reaching his eyes but he ruffled her hair anyway and she squeezed him lightly before agreeing and going into the room Harry had previously semi invaded.

The door handle clicked and echoed, sealing everyone else out, but them. Only them.

Harry told himself he wouldn't stare but it was beyond difficult not to. Not when his every instinct was to protect this boy from every evil known to man, defend him against the abuse he'd already suffered so powerfully, the effects to which were painted with such malice on his face. Purple bruising, flowering at his temple. A bust lip that sliced through his lower shape. A dark and harrowing row of markings around his neck, faint specks of little grazes littered along his jaw.

He knew it would be difficult to see him but he didn’t know he’d be this lost for words. He found himself staring oddly at him, at least it felt odd, caught between a frown and a breath he’d yet to let go, waiting for something. Anything. He released his clenched fists.

“I’m this way.” Louis tipped his head back to the landing behind him and walked without waiting for Harry.

“How did you know I was here?” It came out quite smoothly, despite having misplaced his tongue mere seconds ago.

Louis slipped down the second corridor and into a room that had it’s door still wide open, not turning when answering, “Your voice is offensively callous Harry. A whisper from you could be mistaken for shifting tectonic plates.”

Harry bit back a chuckle, teeth dragging across his lip as he swallowed down any left over rasp despite it surfacing anyway when he replied, “Oh.”

And oh was all he could manage. How could he have forgotten this place?

Only now does he remember exactly where and what and how. Being so drunk off rage merges memories he sometimes wanted to forget but needed to remember, one of those being the night with Ryan. And how Edward carried Louis out of the room, the other end of the corridor, all the way across to this, here, his bedroom and place him… Harry turned to look at the queen sized bed against the wall at the opposite side, sheets slightly crumpled but still relatively neat. The dark grey throw that would probably be donned at the bottom of the mattress was haphazardly strewn over the pillows. Harry pushed all images of Louis being all nuzzled up in it to the back of his mind, thinking he may not quite resist the urge to carry him back over and pick up where he left off.

“So.”

His voice. It’d been a while since he’d heard his voice and it still took time to adjust, even now.

Harry gulped, closed the door shut and looked to Louis for confirmation that that was alright, before stepping into the room a little further, “How are you feeling?”

Louis puffed out a bit of air, shaking his head. He looked a little annoyed and Harry didn’t know where to place himself, “I think we can skip over the niceties, Haz.”

“Y-you’re right, I just don’t kno-,”

“Harry.”

Again, the only person who could cut him off so frequently and he’d allow it. Welcome it, actually, if it meant they carried on speaking.

“Harry,” Although Harry didn’t get a chance to reply, lips parted on a silent vowel, “I am so sorry.”

_What._

“Louis, L-lou, what are you apologising-,”

“-I didn’t believe you.”

“That doesn’t matter, goodness, Lou it doesn’t mat-,”

“- _of course_ it matters Harry. You’ve been locked up inside there for all this time. All this time and y-you did nothing!,” His eyes were red, puffy. He shook his head, looking away from Harry as he screwed them shut to stifle a sob, “None of it.”

Harry stepped forward, testing to see what Louis’d allow. Knew what he wanted, but wasn’t sure if Louis was there yet.

“Lou,” He closed the gap between them, feet cushioned suddenly by the speckled rug that was beneath them and touched Louis’ elbow ever so lightly, nothing more than to get his attention, get him to look up, “Louis.”

"I've been so selfish, so  _stupid..._ "

"Louis shush."

And he did, eyes glazed and sniffing. He met his gaze for a handful of seconds before it was too much and he looked away again, pulling away from Harry’s touch and winding into himself even further.

“No, listen,” Harry straightened up a little, finding his voice and his timbre deepening as he took another step forward to compensate for the two Louis took back, “none of this is your fault Louis. You’ve only believed something that was so cleverly contrived that it would’ve been foolish to think anything else. My Brother managed to fool everybody, including me. He got me thinking I’d be better off dead. He’s powerful and manipulative and you are a _victim_.”

The sobs Louis had been deflecting settled, his chest not rising and falling so manically and his worrying lip was released. But he still wasn’t looking. Still had his arms coiled around his middle.

Harry puffed a mental sigh and wound his hand between his forearms, pulling them apart with little fight put up from the other. Eventually he had both of Louis’ trembling hands in his own and for the first time he knew exactly what to do. He pulled so Louis stumbled forward gently, lifting his arms until their torsos where nearly connected and guided his arms so they could hang around his neck, “This- is that okay?”

Louis was looking now, licked his lips and nodded even as he felt a twinge in his lower rib.

“Louis you need to realise you are not to blame for any of this.” Harry was careful about where he put his hands, grazing his flanks with little to no pressure, feeling just how much room there was in that ridiculous hoodie, “I want you to stop thinking like this.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again,” Louis hadn’t realised he was playing in the curls laid at the nape of Harry’s neck, unconcerned with the mild ache forming in his own from gazing upwards.

“I would rather die.”

Now, Louis doubted any of that was anything short of the truth.

And his chest _clenched_. His sore muscles and tender skin and aching heart all felt like a collective shrivel there in Harry’s arms, where he was supposed to be, where he _should’ve_ been this entire time.

Harry pulled him in so they were closer, but not squished, too aware of how fragile Louis must be to hold too tight. He closed his eyes and braced a kiss to his fringe, lips moving against it, “I don’t know if you’re aware but, I’m rather fond of you Louis.”

The smile that stretched onto his face was felt on Harry’s shoulder and he returned it, pulling away from the feathery softness and peering down at Louis nuzzling his nose into the dip of his collar bone, the corners of his eyes a dead give away.

“Louis, it’s me that must apologise.”

He was already pulling back to ready a defiance but Harry didn’t allow him the room, cutting him off gently, “Please, Louis.”

Unfolding from their private embrace was unpleasant, closeness was something he desired so deeply and had been denied so cruelly that it was difficult to let go now he knew he didn’t have to. Alas, he disconnected his arms from around his neck, and walked him over to the bed, trying not to stare at the discomfort on Louis’ delicate features as he sat down.

“I don’t know why my Brother did what he did, it’s obvious he wanted your affection but to go this far, to try and frame me for something so detrimental and vile I- I cannot understand and I don’t know if I ever will.” Harry had stood back and peeped at the book that was face down on an open page on his night stand, probably something he’d been reading before his arrival, “All this time he’s been keeping me away from you, disguising it as wanting to keep you _safe_ , from me. Afraid of where this,” he tapped his head, “would take us. When really he just wanted you to himself. I didn’t think he’d go this far.”

Louis swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching out his toes to wiggle them on the rug, “After I heard what he said to Ben about Ryan, it all became clear after that. I sort of put it together in my head but- I don’t know. Just didn’t want to believe it.”

Harry stood, hands on hips, frown on face, pout on lips.

“What?”

“What…”

“What about Ryan?”

Louis stopped swinging his feet, mirroring Harry’s frown even if it was less scornful, “About the party?”

“Your party?”

Louis doubted he was playing with him, it would be sick of him to do so, “Yes Harry.”

“What about it? Why would he bring that up?”

“Harry- Haz I thought you knew everything?”

Harry’s heart had found a gentle rhythm during the last few minutes, finally calming to a comfortable pace with Louis’ welcome and ease. But now that went to shit.

“I know about him framing my arrest, Mrs Bundin went into detail about how he’d been convicted and what he did to you and the party and-,” Suddenly it caught up with him, “she said there was plenty more evidence but right now, she said it didn’t matter…”

“She hasn’t told you anything?”

Harry was staring at the book when he shook his head, his mind fighting off fierce scenarios that were presenting themselves in there. Surely not. Surely Edward would-

“Oh God, great,” Louis threw his hands in the air, slapping back down on his mattress.

“Lou…”

He whined, running a hand through his hair, the sleeve of his hoodie rolling down to reveal a slim wrist as he did, “Can’t _believe_ I have to be the one to tell you.”

By a pull that he’d been ignoring for six years of his life he stepped forward and fell to his knees before him, palms cupping the backs of his calves and squeezing so gently. He wanted him to know he was safe. Whatever it was he had to tell him he was safe and it was okay.

He looked like he was going to cry again and Harry couldn’t take that. He didn’t want to see him upset like this ever again.

“Baby,” His voice was so low, so close and Louis almost found comfort in it, knowing it was Harry, _seeing_ it was Harry but the ever present connection that he made to Edward got his body tense and fidgety, “I’m here, it’s alright. Tell me. Please, I need to know what’s happened.”

Louis had pulled his hands back into his sleeves, concealing them and rolling them over the other, rubbing them up and down his thighs just so he had something to do with them, trying so desperately to distract himself from his own thoughts and the burn of a sob in his throat.

Harry had avoided lingering on any of his injuries thus far, but this angle was serving difficult to maintain such a vow and his eyes dropped to the prominent markings around his neck. His hands tightened involuntarily where they were situated at Louis’ legs and it got the boy hissing softly, almost recoiling and Harry snapped out of it instantly, “-sorry, sorry.”

“I just-,”

It made his mind fog up at the thought his injuries extended beyond what was visible. Knew there were plenty more underneath the baggy clothing.

“I don’t want you to… get bad.”

His face must’ve reflected his thoughts as Louis froze when he met his eyes, looking a little fearful at his stern exterior.

Harry felt how tense his jaw was, how his breathing was falling short and heavy through his nostrils and he swallowed, shook his head, remembered what he’d said, what _Mrs Bundin_ had pleaded, “Of course. I promise, whatever it is, I won’t get angry.”

And he had to mean it. He had to. This was the last chance he’s probably going to get.

Louis waited for a little while and when his shoulders dropped, Harry knew he brought him round. He rubbed little encouraging circles with his thumbs on his shins, ignoring how slender his legs felt in his grasp. Ignoring how _easy_ it would’ve been for Edward to overpower and hurt him.

“Edward, p-planned the whole thing.”

“I don’t understand…”

His stomach dropped, his ears rang. He understood. He just didn’t want to set it in stone until he heard the words for himself. Had to keep his cool. Had to focus.

It was unfortunate because Louis looked so uncomfortable saying it, but he needed him to finish.

“He- apparently Ben was in major debt to Edward and so he’d been acting as his pawn this entire time and the party, he set it up. Ben wouldn’t do it so he got his friend to _attempt_ to rape me, knowing that you would walk in and see it and- well, you know the rest.”

Louis grew a little hot under his stare. He doesn’t remember seeing him blink since he started speaking.

“He uhm, wanted me to see you get in that state and think you were some sort of animal. This whole time he’s been feeding me lies about you.”

There was more to tell, it's obvious Harry knew the minimum. But looking at Harry at his feet like that.

Harry sat back, Louis unsure as to whether he even meant to his bum hit the floor with such a thud. His hand ghosted his jaw, scrubbed over his mouth and up through his hair, leaving the wavy mess it was even more mussed. His green eyes bore into somewhere in the distance as he tried to process this horror.

“…Harry I’m so sorry.”

He squeaked out an apology, feeling so terribly awful. He shifted to the ground with him, straining to keep all the agony that came with the bruises and grazes from evil hands inside, biting his tongue as he fell to the floor awkwardly and crawled half way between Harry’s bent legs, “I don’t know what to say, I- we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, we can just relax, we don-,”

“No,” Harry came back to earth, along with his gravelly pitch, “no, Lou I need to know. I’m okay I’m just- it’s fine.”

He rearranged their bodies so he was sat with his back against the bed frame, allowing Louis to move so he were sat with his back against harry, slotting perfectly between his long legs and he tried to keep his voice steady, his mind too, when he cooed in his ear, “Please, I'm okay. Carry on.”

 

*

 

_\- One week later-_

 

“And he’s willing to testify?”

Harry spoke hurriedly into the receiver, finger in his ear, eyes on the look out for anyone who would know he wasn’t really meant to be here. Mrs Bundin’s clearance would only get him so far with so many people, if the wrong person was to step by and see him here then he’d be escorted straight back out.

“Okay, okay good. How is he holding up?”

“…alright, that’s better than yesterday. Tell him I’ll sort a meeting out with his Father-,”

And speaking of the devil.

Harry nodded to the man, dressed in suit trousers, grey shirt and a tie that was loose at the top, badge clipped to his waistband as he appeared through he frosted door on the other side of the room.

“Actually I’ve got to go- yeah, I’ll call you in a couple of hours. Thank you so much…. absolutely… okay, bye.”

He replaced the phone back on the hook and swung round to greet Mr. Crosby with an offered hand, “Sir, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, fella’.”

Ben’s Father. The constable at the local police station. The man who had been tipped off on the whereabouts to Harry’s location at the time of his arrest by Ben, who’d been told by Edward. They tracked his phone which led to their precise location that day. Mr. Crosby had been mortified once he’d found out that not only had he been lied to by his own Son but had very well played a part in a much more sinister plan.

“I trust Mrs Bundin has told you everything you need to know?”

Harry nodded, letting go of his palm, “She has.”

“And I trust you also know I am risking a lot letting you anywhere near this boy?”

He nodded again, “I understand. But sir, he’s my Brother, I need to talk to him.”

“Yes well he’s a bit of a cunt,” Mr Crosby scratched the underside of his jaw with his thumb, huffing out a sardonic laugh at Harry’s surprise, “best be aware of that before you go in.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Harry wanted to finish up his smirk, but it felt weird. He could appreciate humour in the light of horrible events, but this man was a professional and he was risking his job and it was all very under the radar and if he let his anger get the better of him then several people will pay for his actions and it was all just very weird, that he could still hold a sense of humour despite all of this.

He liked him.

"I'm only doing this because of Elizabeth, I've known her for a long time and the trust is there."

Harry nodded. Again. "I know, I appreciate it sir."

The fact that Edward was the reason behind is Son's violent attack had nothing to do with it. Absolutely nothing.

“Right, best hurry this along. Ten minutes. Maximum. Got it?” His voice was low, already walking past the main desk where there were a couple of people tapping away on keyboards, he nodded to a passing officer and Harry ducked his head as he followed, “It’s unsupervised so I’m trusting you, but once those ten minutes are through, you’re out.”

“Understood.”

They passed through several more corridors, pausing every often so Mr. Crosby could scan his keycard, the more they pushed into the building, the more restricted the access got and he needed special clearance through an audio device at the final door.

The metal hinges clanged down the empty corridor as the bars pulled back and the two armed officers retreated back to their original position of guarding the entrance, not giving the constable or Harry a second look.

“Right,” He turned to Harry, pointing at the solid iron door before them, “He’s in there. Keep it quick and keep it clean. I’ll be back in ten.”

Harry could feel his blood run thicker, his mind blacking out,  _tick-tocking_ the seconds along.

“Good luck.”

And the constable was back through the bars, walking back down the empty corridor and into a side room he couldn’t identify. Harry closed his eyes and inhaled deep, mentally grabbing at what calm he could, generating a sense of composure to help dampen the beast he could feel clawing at his insides. Working against every instinct he had to tear his Brother limb from limb.

The door buzzed and Harry’s eyes flew back open to a green light instead of red and he pushed the door forward, letting the ice cold air conditioning hit him along with a set of equally piercing eyes, a smile alive in them.

“Hello Brother.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the ending. This could've been so much better, but I feel like if I added much more it would've just been pointless. I know there hasn't been much intimacy or smut or anything 'certain' and it's all been a bit up in the air in this story but I sort of like it more for that, because I feel like it's more _real_ and helped maintain the story instead of throwing in things for the sake of it. I don't know if you know what I mean or if I'm talking nonsense, either way I hope you've enjoyed/enjoy it.
> 
> To everyone who has left sweet, sweet comments and all my kudos, you've fed me well and kept me motivated and I thank you for that. You're all the cutest. Until next time.

 

Mrs Bundin had advised him to keep a clear cut image of Louis in his mind the whole time. Imagine he were right there in the room with you both, watching everything you do and hearing everything you say. Said it would help to censor his behaviour, choose his moves more thoughtfully and ultimately keep from laying a single hand where it shouldn’t be.

In theory, it was a solid idea.

But in practise, imaging Louis’ face, his bruised jaw, his grazed lip and ruptured temple and all the horrible marks that he’d uncovered on his sweet body, marks that shouldn’t be there - should _never_ be there - wasn’t working a treat. He’d kissed every single one of the ministrations, traced gentle fingers and whispered sweet nothings, desperate to seal a promise in that moment, that he would never. It was hard to keep his temperament stable while staring into the face of the person responsible for it all.

“Four months ago, I lost my Brother.”

Edward chuckled, hummed, hanging his head back with a smile Harry wished to smash to the back of his skull, “Only four months?”

He was sat on the bed that was fixed to the side of the wall, barefoot, head to toe in grey. Sweatpants with the drawstring removed and a plain t-shirt that hugged his lean bulk. Physically he was the boy Harry had grown up with, nothing was removed from what he saw staring back at him, just the same old Edward with his identical features coated in black ink. But the person inside, the soul he thought he knew, the Brother he thought he had was nothing but a ghost.

“Four months ago you made a decision to break any bond we’ve had.”

“Bond? We are bound by blood nothing more.” Edward was still leaning back, throat bared, Harry tried not to watch his adams apple bob when he swallowed, “Such a sentimental little girl.”

Harry made himself move forward to get his limbs moving, unsticking from their tense set, “At least I have a heart, a conscience. I would prefer to be a little over emotional than lack any.”

Edward’s head fell forward instantly and Harry stopped dead with caution, smile dropped from his face. Only now could Harry see a deep gash that had heeled on the side of his face, just near his eyebrow. He didn’t ask, but took comfort in the idea of it being Louis’ doing. It looked deep and painful. Even though he’d gotten off light when it came to injuries it was obvious it would’ve hurt.

“Aww pup, come ‘ere.” He knocked his head back, patting the space on the thin mattress next to him, “Tell big brother everything.”

Harry wondered why he hadn’t been shackled for this, shook his head no, “This didn’t have to happen, Edward.”

“Oh fucksake’,” He rolled his eyes, exaggerating a sigh, “you’re killing me.”

Harry hadn’t noticed his fists had been constantly clenched, jaw actually starting to ache from his teeth grinding so roughly. The bone jutted out as he tensed it once more, narrowing his eyes at his sibling when he returned the look with just a much malice, “Am I making you angry Harry? We all know what happens when you get angry.”

He took in a breath through his teeth, mocking Harry with the fact he still could.

“I could kill you, you know. Right here. You’d deserve it.”

Edward was gleeful at the response, “Kudos bro, I thought you were going to come back with something noble like,  _you’re not worth it_ or something,” He pointed a finger, hands looking quite naked without being accessorised with rings, “admitting your true feelings, step one complete.”

It was cold in here, Harry’s skin started to prickle from a breeze he couldn’t determine the source of. Edward’s soul had probably worked it’s way into the pipe work, his utter lack of repentance or mindfulness had set itself into these very walls. And besides everything, it scared Harry rotten. He didn’t know this boy.

“Do you even realise the damage you’ve done?”

Harry stepped forward, deflecting his goading with all his will. He was the one with the power here.

Edward leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees, vein surfacing at his neck as he peered up, “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

He was not going to ask him that no. He knew why. Edward’s examination had revealed all the information needed; his psychosis that had gone so acutely undetected and cleverly disguised by him thus far, told Harry everything he needed to know about his Brother’s intentions. He was after all, no stranger to delusion himself. But this was nothing in comparison. Edward was dangerous. His actions thought out, meticulous and intentional.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Either way, he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of reliving it with a smile on his evil mouth throughout.

“I’d like you to watch your face as I give my side of the story.”

He scoffed, maybe should think better of doing so, “I don’t much care for your bullshit sto-,”

“Know what else I’d like?”

Harry ran his tongue along the outside of his teeth, his silence speaking for him.

“I’d like to watch your face as I described every second of what I did to Louis,” He flexed his fingers slowly, making sure every crack was heard as he worked along his knuckles, eyes so sharp but vacant as he spoke, “every sweet sound he made, gasping for air, _begging_ me to stop-.”

Harry’s boots scuffed along the floor as he launched forward, a well aimed hand around his throat as he shoved him backwards, the crack of his skull hitting the brick wall was satisfying.

Edward hissed, but laughed, making no attempt at fighting back. He fell limp against his advance and it took a bone shuddering moment for Harry to realise what he was doing. He let go, skin around his neck already whitened from his force and cursed him violently.

“You haven’t won, Harry.”

It still sent a harrowing chill down Harry’s centre, got him swallowing down on a fear he thought stupid but necessary to feel.

“That’s just it, there was no game to be played.” Harry was losing a little bit of his control, throwing his hands out as he spoke, clearly affected, “You can’t _toy_ with people’s lives like you have Edward, you would’ve had me kill myself and tally it up as a final point-,”

“-I can still make that a reality.” Edward’s voice caught on Harry’s, coming to an abrupt stand before him, eye to eye. “Are you forgetting we’re in here alone, _Brother_.”

Against every better judgement, Harry closed the small gap left between them and matched his callous tone, not giving him a chance to look away, “Well don’t tease me.”

“You think I won’t?”

“I’m not officially meant to be here, Edward.”

Perfect. Edward was thrown off, only by a speck, but he was confused, it flashed across his eyes in a second that came and went too fast for anyone else to catch it. But Harry did. Harry always did.

He pushed on, torsos almost touching from dangerously close proximity, a fire sparking in the inch left between them, “This meeting has been cleared by two people. One of those people being the Father of the person you have abused for several years. _Officially_ , I’m not even here. No surveillance, no supervision. That sort of secret anonymity comes with a lot of freedom, so if they were to find you with a few more broken bones than the last check-in they completed this morning they will have no one to point the finger at.”

“Stupid cunt there’s _guards_ -,”

“-Everyone has their price.”

It’d taken nineteen years to feel this powerful. To finally feel like he were equal to his Brother and to see he were the one at his feet, trapped inside a glass house looking out at the passing world and not being able to touch.

“You don’t have it in you.” Still, it didn’t rid any spite from his tongue.

Harry continued breathing hard through his nose, composure just intact on the outside. But inside.

“I do. And boy do I want to but,” He shook his head, wanted to smile but didn’t, not until he leant in and felt Edward flinch, “ _you’re not worth it_.”

This was his satisfaction. Knowing Edward was quivering from the possibility. Something he couldn’t control. Something he had no power over. _That_ , would have to do. Harry wouldn’t let himself go. Louis’ voice a soft buffer to the sharp, tempting, violent thoughts piercing through his resolve.

He stepped back, feeling the smallest piece of gratification drip into his blood. Leaving Edward to stand with a frozen fear in his eyes, the only part of him that moved to follow him across the room, speaking a message he didn’t need to voice.

Harry walked backwards until he felt the cold steel and as if on cue, tipped his head up to the buzz of his ten minutes time out.

“Why did you come here?” It was a question burst out against Edward’s greater will, confused and irritated and needing _something_ to work off.

Harry didn’t turn his back, victory aside, he knew better than to turn a blind eye to Edward. He stood, they both stood. Identical as the day they were born, the same blood running through their veins, hearts beating as one and Harry’s chest did an unexpected thing. This was probably the last time he’s going to see him on his own for what he hopes to be many, many years. Once the court proceedings are through this mess will be flushed away for quite some time and there was something pulling at the most private part of his mind.

“Because I love you.” He started, making sure to look at Edward, even if in that moment Edward couldn't return it, “Because I loved you like any Brother should, I looked up to you and turned to you for guidance. I thought you were everything I should be. I wanted to see how you’d react to me, see if there was any trace of remorse or regret or -” Harry licked his lips, considered the last part, “I don’t know. I guess you’re right about me Edward, I’m emotional and soft. I wanted to see if there was anything left in there I could work off but…”

He trailed off catching a faint drag of metal on the other side of the door, quiet and echoey from the room being sound proofed. He looked to the floor before sniffing and pushing on the solid door, a silent beeping to alert the guards that it was open.

“We should’ve been a unit. Goodbye Edward.”

 

 

*

 

 

“I’m due for transferal in January, I can’t let anything get in the way of that.”

That alone, spoke bounds. Usually, things like education, money or his own well being fell second in line to Louis, nothing holding anywhere near the colossal importance that he did to Harry. But things were different now.

“I thought it was October?”

“Yes, but… things have pushed the date back a little bit.”

Louis felt rotten.

“Hey,” And it must’ve shown because there was a hand cupping his cheek, softly pulling his gaze back up, “it’s okay, I don’t mind. Just have to sort myself out before I get thrown back into an academic crisis again.”

“I’m so sorry.” He’d said it too many times, enough times for Harry to actually tell him to quit. “This whole mess is m-,”

“-dead.”

Louis didn’t understand, blinking at the tears, searching the crystal clear eyes looking at him, a smile resting peacefully in them as he let out a husk of a giggle.

“W-what? What’s dead?”

“The mess, it’s dead. Buried.”

“But Harry you’re going to be monitored for the next fo-,”

Harry shushed him with a concession of soft noises, coaxing him into silence while he stepped forward and took Louis’ hands in his own, winding their fingers with each other and in doing so pulling their bodies so close there was only a sliver of air left between them.

“I’m going to be on medication for the rest of my life, Lou. I can’t escape what’s inside my head, it’s part of who I am and it’s the reason why I have to go away for a few months. For that, you are not to blame.”

Louis hung his head, not ready to hear the tail end to that sentence.

“Nor…” Harry dipped his head so he got his attention, Louis looking straight back up again, “nor are you to blame for any of the deceased mess.”

Louis almost believed him. He didn’t want to risk sounding like a whiney little brat by constantly denying what Harry is telling him, pouring out his insecurities just for him to smooth it back over again with reassuring words that tried to make him listen. Instead he will just smile, nod his head a little and rock up on his toes to deliver a featherlight kiss to those cherry red lips.

He giggled when Harry frowned, clearly not expecting it.

“I mean, I think you many be a little bit more fucked up than I am if you think about it.”

And Louis wasn’t expecting _that._ “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Harry looked to his side, pursed lips and squinted eyes as he thought for a beat, “I mean who would stick around after all this? Regardless of my innocence, any normal person would’ve ran several miles.”

And Louis had to really try hard to mock offence, mouth already morphing into a smile that got the taller boy giggling, low and deep as he pulled their intwined hands up to his devilishly curved lips, smile bright and wide against Louis’ knuckles.

“Think you’ve invented a new kink.”

Louis stuck a finger up to prod Harry’s nose playfully, “Piss off Styles.”

It was a few seconds later they had stopped giggling enough to join at the lips. Harry dropping his head down to shift easily against Louis’, hands still clutched but lowered, almost losing themselves to the authentic moment as Louis slipped his tongue past and against his lower lip and feeling Harry hum into it, opening up for him.

Harry tightened his fingers, almost moved his thigh between Louis’ by instinct when they got torn apart by an ill-timed interruption.

“ _Styles!_ ,” A voice called out, a woman’s voice, the voice they’d spoken to not moments ago, right behind them and they all but jumped from one another, lips slick and cheeks flushed.

It was messy and Harry was clumsy, nudging Louis’ shoulder when he turned around to look at her, “Y-yes?”

All it took was _the look_. One look to convey a message that had both of their tummies dipping and their hearts bleed. Harry sighed, looked to the black car that had been parked outside for what has to be closing in on half an hour now and turned back to Louis. If the blue in his eyes were a little shinier then Harry had to pretend not to notice, clench his fists, bite his tongue. This was hard enough.

He fussed his hair, fingers pushing long fingers through the thickness of his fringe, “No mobiles, no internet.”

Puffing out a breath, Louis nodded.

“Four months,” He reiterated. Their feet were suddenly very interesting, both favouring staring at these instead each other, “or thereabouts.”

“Not even Skype?”

“Not even Skype.”

“A weekly email?”

“Nope.”

“Monthly?”

“What part of no internet, did you not comprehend?”

“But, what about your parents? Gemma. How-,” Louis was baffled, lifting his eyes to his chest then up to the liquid green above, “what about when they want to see you?”

“Then they come see me. Family only.”

Which was understandable. Still stung though. “Right.”

“I have set days where they can come and pay me supervised visits, apart from that, nothing.”

It had to be strict, he knew that. They both knew as much as they would joke and jest at whatever, flitting around the subject like it wasn’t anything but a distant plan, they eventually had to come back down to earth and face what was happening. Harry was going away for four months, Doctor’s orders. Bundin’s orders. They weren’t going to see each other in this time, Harry will be dealing with a lot of issues, ironing out the mess that has been his life for the past four months. No, six _years_. Coming to terms with his own blood’s betrayal, trying to wind his head around his childhood and adolescence, the patterns which occurred with his twin’s behaviour and how it now all makes sense. Edward has been diagnosed, criminally insane. Psychopath. The real monster all along. It would take longer than four months to get over something so well rooted. He’ll probably spend his entire life trying to figure out if there was anything he could’ve done earlier to help Edward, to make him see things differently. And it would take him the rest of his life to realise that no. No he couldn’t.

Louis sniffed, tipped his head to stop the tears rolling over, thoroughly surprised he had any left, “Best not,” Turns out it’s a lot harder to keep these at bay, feeling like a tsunami was rearing in the back of his throat, “-you better not forget about me.”

Louis jumped when Harry laughed, loud and brash.

That was enough to stunt his tears for a second, eyeing up his wide smile and dimples and crinkling eyes, _utterly_ lost on what was so funny.

"Uh-,"

“Gosh,” He shook his head, head dipped, “I love you.”

“Well,” Still confused, Louis pouted, “I’m glad you find that funny.”

Harry groaned, hung his head to the side, smile still beautiful and spread across his alarmingly sharp features, “Louis Tomlinson, the day the sun rises in the west is the day I forget you.”

Which prompted something in Harry’s mind, smile fading a tick as he ignored another shout from someone behind him, hearing the clip clop of heels closing in on them across the marble floor. He busies himself with his back pocket, material of his t-shirt pulling tight over his torso as he twisted.

“Okay, but one day you’ll wake up and you’ll realise how I’m not worthy,” Louis rolled his hands into the long sleeves he wore, prodding that solid chest with two fingers, “I feel a fraud indulging in your warm soul and your, your _stupidly_ gloopy heart.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Harry tilted his head, folding the thick piece of paper that he’d retrieved, “but I don’t much care.”

And, Louis scoffed. Shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away from those curious eyes, “I love you.”

Harry folded the paper again, before sliding it under the sleeve and into Louis’ open palm, closing his fist around it, holding it there like that for a second before leaning in and planting the softest of kisses, something so delicate and private that Louis felt it in his chest, to his forehead.

His voice was like the tide that washed the shore, taking away all the toxic thoughts that don’t belong there, “A little something until January. If you ever doubt.”

The car was still there, the men had called him four times now and were looking like they were another rolled eye from Louis away from marching over there and dragging him out themselves. One of the men had now actually opened the back seat of the vehicle as a less than subtle hint to get moving.

Louis wiped the tears away from the back of his hand, the one he was clutching the paper with, “Gosh alright,” The little giggle he gave would fuel Harry for the coming months, “best not make them angry.”

He watched as Harry walked away, the expectation in the air for it to be something cold and austere. Louis’ heart beating at the anticipation of that hole in his stomach ready to rip right back open with his departure. But when Harry looked back over his shoulder before he reached the door, shaking the hands of the two ladies there and awarded him with a small smile, he felt nothing but warmth. A promise wrapped up in an unfortunate compromise, that they’ll be seeing each other soon enough. Four months was nothing.

He waited until the car pulled from the forecourt, the windows tinted and reflecting the clear skies overhead. Louis agreed to wait in the reception area for his car. Declining the offer of a glass of water as he sat down in one of the wide armchairs and tucking his knees up to his chest, nuzzling into the hoodie that he would get to return in four months, inhaling the thick scent that laid in the crease of the hood.

Remembering the paper he’d been clutching, he shuffled his bottom back further so he was nestled into the seat perfectly and turning it over in his palms, he felt his chest swell, instantly covering his mouth to stifle any sound.

_‘It’s like you’re the sun and I’m the moon and well, the moon couldn’t exist without the other._  
_H. x’_


End file.
